


Duff Says Trans Rights.Jpeg

by Thamys020



Series: Trans Rights 70'score [1]
Category: (slightly? it's a rewrite), Jo Nesbø Macbeth, Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: "strega" I cannot believe jo nesbo named MY QUEEN the Italian word for witch. how subtle can you GET, :), CAUSE IM NOT TRANSPHOBIC, Caith and minty? trans, Everyone is Trans, F/M, FUCK I forgot fleance I'll have to go back and tag him, I AM SAYING HOWEVER, I am NOT SAYING my rewrite is better than Macbeth, I dont add themes of child abuse for SHOCK VALUE!!!!!, I hate it, I took the liberty of sprucing up some boys, Lennox? trans, M/M, Macbeth 2 electric boogaloo, Macbeth? trans, Malcolm? trans, Slightly Supernatural, THAT ITS BETTER THAN JO NESBOS, Trans rights, anyways hecate is a trans woman and I love her a lot, because, but in all seriousness I hope this is good, duff? trans, fuck jo nesbo, gray dared me to rewrite it so here I am, if you catch the gay chef Macbeth reference I will give you my firstborn, jo nesbo's rewrite of Macbeth is SHIT, local author writes an essay in the tags, mentioned child abuse but it's either in the past or an assumption, original plan was for bonus to get his hand stabbed with a fork. no remorse for pedophiles, people die sorry, silvestra actually sounds reasonable, spot the historical figures in here too!!! that will be fun, there MIGHT be a sequel in the works. I am working on it., unlike jo nesbo, update: there is a sequel oo woo, we changed strega's name to silvestra cause FUCK that noise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 39,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27101953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thamys020/pseuds/Thamys020
Summary: Literally fuck Jo Nesbø. So I rewrote his book, but better. And trans. And gay.
Relationships: (slight) Lennox/Ross, Angus/Ross, Macbeth/Banquo (one-sided), Macbeth/Lady, Macbeth/Lennox, Malcolm/Duff, Malcolm/Robert, Robert/Malcolm/Duff, sorry banquo ;-;
Series: Trans Rights 70'score [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093583
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jens_Holland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jens_Holland/gifts), [goosemixtapes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goosemixtapes/gifts).



> if jo nesbo sends me any emails he'll have to deal with my ten tumblr followers fuck him I'll eat his transphobic BONES

The rain lashed down on the smoggy town. The skies were often covered in smog and clouds, concealing the sky from the town below, divided into halves by the river, once clean but now corrupted with grime, from north to south. The town was once again halved by a train track, an era of the town when it was still industrial. Nowadays the stations in the town were taken over by the Inverness Casino, and Central Station was home to the many drug addicts this town had acquired. The drugs mostly came from two sources, the Norse Rider biker gang, founded by three sons (two now being dead) of a corporate overlord. The other source of drugs was Hecate, who had much better product, and much more organization and privacy. Hecate was often called “The Invisible Hand” for how efficient and all-encompassing the trade on Hecate’s side of the industry was. The rain and the pollution was mostly central to the town, full of factories and chimneys, but never reached past the mountain tunnel, in the neighboring town of Fife, giving the residents the cleanest air. Fife was more landlocked, and as such, not much sea trade could get in, making its ugly cousin town on the smoky side of the mountain the hub for all ships. That, unfortunately, is what brought Duff out of his home in Fife at three am in the fucking morning. The world outside was cold and wet, and the warmth of the men in the abandoned apartment fogged the glass, so Duff was constantly wiping the window to see. 

“I’m tired.” Siward piped up for the thirtieth time in the past hour. Duff could have  _ slapped _ Siward, if he had less self control. 

“Once the Norse Riders show and we apprehend them you can go to sleep, Siward.” Duff said. “Now be quiet.” Siward went silent. Duff sighed, drumming his fingers against the windowsill. His nails were getting long. Any longer and he’d get  _ those  _ comments again. He started biting his nails again, a nervous habit he’d never been able to break even at the orphanage. 

_ My hands will not look “womanly” ever again _ . He resolved, tearing the bit of nail he’d been chewing off of his finger with a vengeance. 

“What do you see?” Seyton worked his way next to Duff, dislodging him from the very uncomfortable squat he’d been in for the past five hours. 

“You  _ ass _ .” Duff hissed, shoving Seyton away from the window. He peeked out and  _ thank FUCK _ , the bikes arrived. 

But there’s twelve.

Shit. He’d only been warned of five. He’d only brought enough men for five. 

“What is it?” Siward asked, pushing past Seyton. “Oh.” His voice was small. “Svein.” 

“You -” Duff nearly choked. “You’re  _ certain? _ ” 

Siward nodded. 

“I was a Norse Rider once.” He said quietly. “I’d know Svein’s bike anywhere.” 

Duff looked back. The helmet had horns. The bike had a sword. Of course. Svein. 

“You were a  _ Norse Rider? _ ” Seyton snarled. 

“It’s not important.” Siward hissed. “We can discuss it later.” 

“You’re the informant!” Seyton yelled. “You’re working for -” 

“Boys.” Duff said. “ _ Boys _ . Stop fighting. Siward, we’ll talk later.”    
“I was  _ twenty! _ ” Siward protested. 

“Seyton, stop antagonizing him and fucking  _ watch _ .” Duff said. “The boat better show up. We know the plan?” 

“Right.” Siward said. 

“Sure.” Seyton said. “And now we wait.” 

“Do you know why I called you up here?” Hecate asked, sitting on the couch, reclining just enough that she looked languid, at peace, golden curls spilling over the velvet couch. A black dress cupped her body and swept to the floor, a long slit up her legs, exposing shiny black lace-up heels. Her ears glistened with diamonds and her lips, painted as red as the couch behind her, curved into a smile.

“No.” Bonus said. One of the boys Hecate kept around offered him a glass. Red hair. Freckles. Green eyes. Sort of short. Bonus took the glass. 

“Thank you.” He said. The kid nodded.

“I  _ called _ you because the trap has been sprung.” She lifted one leg and draped it over the other, heels shining in the meagre light. “Duff has taken the bait, and so has Macbeth. The Norse Riders crumble beneath my stiletto heels.” 

“I see.” Bonus said, draining his glass. “And?” 

“Keep your ears open, Bonus. And you must report to me.” Hecate said. “You know what to do.” 

“I do.’ Bonus said. “May I have another glass please…?” 

“Fabian.” Hecate supplied. 

“Fabian.” The redhead, Fabian, handed him another glass. Bonus accepted it, looking up at Fabian through the liquor. “Thank you.” 

“Watch and wait, Bonus. Watch and wait.” Hecate stretched again.

“Siward, you’re the fastest, sneak around the side and have them from behind. We’ll take the front.”

“We should have brought Macbeth.” Seyton snarled.

“Shut up, Seyton.” Duff groaned. “We’re all aware of the plan?” The team nodded. 

“Speak of the devil, there’s the boat.” Siward said. 

“There’s the boat.” Macbeth said. “Banquo? You ready?”

“This weather makes me feel old.” Banquo grumbled. “But yes, I am. Angus is in the van and - Auley?” 

“Yeah?” Auley asked. 

“You’re here. Okay.” Banquo said. “Get ready, here it comes.” 

“But what if Narco can handle it?” Auley asked. 

“Then it’s Duff’s victory. We’re just backup.” Macbeth said. “You ready, boys?” 

“It’s cold.” Banquo grumbled. Macbeth shrugged his jacket over. 

“Thank you.” Banquo gave Macbeth a grateful smile. 

“Now  _ I’m  _ wet, so you owe me.” Macbeth teased. Banquo let out a long-suffering sigh. 

“Oh, I knew it.” He moaned. “Macbeth only helps me when there’s something in it for him.” Auley snorted. 

“Don’t move!” Duff yelled, pointing the gun. The Norse Riders all turned to them. 

“I could say the same to you.” The deep baritone voice was unmistakable. Svein. He stepped forward, Siward pressed between another Norse Rider and his sword, dark curls being tugged at to expose his neck. 

“Seyton.” Duff warned, because he knew Seyton would step forward just to get Siward killed. 

“Hi guys.” Siward said, voice trembling. “Long time no - GK-” The sword went tighter to his neck.

“We’ll be going now.” Svein continued. “My men will leave, and until the last man is gone, you will not move or else Siward will die.” 

“Aren’t you both all buddy-buddy?” Seyton asked as a jeep was wheeled out and some of the Riders hopped inside. “Considering Siward’s a Norse Rider and all?” 

“Hardly.” Svein said dismissively. Siward winced. Svein strapped on his helmet, patting the man holding Siward captive on the shoulder. “Goodbye, Officer.” 

Duff could’ve sworn. He would’ve shot at Svein if he could, but the sheer terror on Siward’s face - A man Duff had been entrusted with protecting - stopped him. Seyton gave a hiss of disgust. It hit Duff at that moment. He’d failed. 

“Shit.” Banquo said. “It’s gone sideways.” 

“We all can see, Banquo.” Auley said. “I can’t make that shot without killing the Narco officer.” 

“Siward.” Macbeth said.

“I can make it.” Banquo said. “I just need a little more light. And you need to be quick.” 

“I can get you light. Auley, get Angus to start the van.” Macbeth said, examining the storefront lights, welded to the shop’s roof. He took one, yanking up upright, until the light shone on the Norse Rider and Siward. Banquo fired. 

There was a loud  _ bang _ , and Duff wondered if Seyton had shot, getting Siward killed. But when Duff turned back to Siward, both he and the Norse Rider were bathed in light, and the Norse Rider slid like a jellyfish down Siward’s back and collapsed.

Duff looked up. Macbeth waved from the roof, jumping to the ground. 

“Hello.” He said.    
“Hello.” Duff greeted. 

“Svein went that way.” Macbeth said. “SWAT’s got the van. You coming or not?” 

Duff swallowed his pride. “Sure.” He said. “Seyton, try  _ not _ to get Siward killed.” 

Macbeth hopped on the last Rider’s bike, patting it. Duff rolled his eyes and settled on the back, wrapping his arms around Macbeth’s midsection. It brought back memories of the first few years in the Force. Macbeth had a bike back then, too. And Duff  _ loved  _ that fucking bike. 

And he may have loved how Macbeth looked on the bike, all leather and tactical gear, where Duff was still short, hair still shoulder-length as he hadn’t figured out who and what he was yet. Macbeth looked strong and confident and so sure of himself, and Duff held on a little too tight, scared of falling off, and scared of falling in love. 

The bike finally started, jarring Duff out of his thoughts with an undignified yelp, and they followed the Norse Riders.

“STAY ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE ROAD!” Banquo yelled at the jeep. The jeep, stubbornly, stayed on the wrong side of the road. 

“Auley.” Banquo said. 

“On it!” Auley said, poking their rifle out of the left window and shooting at the tires. 

“Mother of God-” Angus swore. “Try not to hit  _ me _ , Auley!” 

“Sorry!” Auley said. They aimed again, and fired. One of the tires exploded, sending sparks into the rainy sky. It was at that moment one of the Riders started to fire back. 

Auley let out a cry of pain, pulling themself back in the car. 

“Auley?!” Banquo asked. 

“Shoulder…” Auley hissed. Banquo took Auley’s gun and leaned out his window. The other car was swerving badly. He fired. 

The car swerved off the bridge, and fell into the water. 

“Holy  _ fuck. _ ” Auley said. 

The lorry sunk into the water, white powder creating a cloud in the river. 

“So that’s what it was.” Banquo said. “Fucking  _ drugs _ .” 

“Let’s focus on getting Auley to a hospital, yeah?” Angus asked. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some fuckery goes down. as usual.

“- Meanwhile, me and Macbeth went after Svein.” Duff poured his glass of wine, checked his watch. Nine-thirty pm. He looked up at his dinner guests. 

Chief Commissioner Duncan gave him an encouraging smile, poking at his salad.

“And then what?” Lennox, the head of the Anti-Corruption unit, asked. 

“Well, the remaining Norse Riders split up.” Duff said. “Me and Macbeth took the remaining motorbike-” 

“And there was only one motorbike!” Caithness, head of Forensics, and also Duff’s best friend, said in a mocking tone, batting her eyelids. Duncan looked at her, confused. 

“What is that supposed to mean.” He asked. Caithness just laughed harder, grabbing her glass and sipping at the wine to calm herself down. Once she regained control, she made a gesture for Duff to continue. 

“Thank you, Caith.” Duff deadpanned. “For the insight.” Caithness snorted. 

“Anyways, the Norse Riders split up.” Duff said. “But Svein’s bike went left, so me and Macbeth followed.” 

“Did you  _ shoot em? _ ” Angus asked, halfway through Macbeth’s story. 

“No, Angus.” Macbeth said. “Slow down, you’re gonna -” Angus slipped off the bench, his beer spilling over his shirt. “Oh god.” Banquo let out a snort. 

“Well, curious minds would like to know.” Auley said, downing their glass. One of their arms was in a cast. “Did you shoot em or not?” 

“No, Auley.” Macbeth laughed. “How? We were on a bike.” 

“Duff could’ve.” Angus recovered himself. 

“He could’ve… if he wasn’t hugging me so tight I nearly passed out.” Macbeth said, recalling the tight grip Duff had on him. “He’s always been scared of falling off motorbikes since the time he fell off when I was speeding and had to get a skin graft on his arm.” 

“Ouch…” Banquo hissed. “Anyways, then what?” 

“Well, we obviously followed Svein’s bike, and the bikes went to the harbor.” Macbeth licked his lips, tapped his nails against the glass. “Past the harbor, to this warehouse. It was a...shitty old thing. I would’ve thought nothing of it, if there weren’t so many  _ bikes _ .” 

“You know where the Norse Riders are based now?” Duncan leaned forward. 

“Yes.” Duff said, allowing himself that moment of pride.

“That’s amazing!” Lennox said. “Then what?”

Duff rubbed the long diagonal scar on his face, another nervous habit. “Well then, me and Macbeth went inside. No one really noticed at first.” 

“They were drunk.” Caithness said. 

“Yes.” Duff said. “I think they noticed when Macbeth shot the light out.” 

“Amazing…” Lennox mumbled. “Then what?” 

“Everyone started running, and I saw Svein’s helmet and went after him.” Duff said. “Macbeth followed behind me, and took on some of the more sober Norse Riders.  _ I _ went after Svein. He went back out to the bikes, and pulled a gun.”    
“Svein is dead?” Duncan asked, eyes alight. 

“...He baited us.” Duff said. “He swapped helmets and bikes. I...killed the wrong man.” 

“ _ Duff _ shot him?!” Banquo asked, incredulous.

“He pulled a gun.” Macbeth said. “And I took out the man who was about to shoot Duff.” 

“And  _ there’s _ the Macbeth we know and -  _ hic! _ ” Angus swigged his beer. “What about the other -” 

“The other Norse Riders? We took them to the hospital.” Macbeth explained. “Angus, my friend, I’m going to have to cut you off.” 

“Aww.” Angus pouted. 

“We’re approaching curfew anyways.” Banquo said. “Angus, go home. Auley, go home.”    
“Loyalty! Fraternet-” Angus slid off the bench for the second time. 

“Baptized in fire, united in blood.” The other three chorused, Auley helping Angus to his feet as they spoke. 

“I’ll see you gentlemen tomorrow!” Macbeth said. “Angus, please don’t die, Ross will miss you.” 

“I miss  _ Ross!! _ ” Angus yelled. “I miss his cute fucking face.” 

“Lovely.” The four froze. Seyton raised his glass from the table. “It is  _ always _ good to see you, Macbeth.” 

“Seyton.” Macbeth said hesitantly. “Hello.” 

“I heard you saved the day.” 

“It was a joint effort.” Macbeth said. “Duff did just as much work as I did.” 

“Will Duncan see it that way?” Seyton leaned forward. “When Duff’s done telling the story?” 

“Shut up, weirdass.” Angus said. “Come on guys, let’s go.” 

“Auley?” Seyton asked. “May I speak to you about that arm?” 

Macbeth looked to Auley, who gave a shrug, and ventured over to Seyton’s table. 

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Auley said. 

“What do you think?” Duff asked, hesitant.

“I think that was super cool of Macbeth -” Caithness coughed. “ _ AND _ Duff to do that!” Lennox said cheerfully. 

“I think Duff should have saved the motorbike.” Caithness pouted. “I want to drive one. Menteith has one but she won’t let me drive  _ that _ either.” 

“It’s not worth it.” Duff said, relaxing a bit. 

“And when did you say you were tipped off about this?” Duncan asked. Duff’s blood froze.

“I got it just as I was about to leave.” He said, repressing the guilt of the obvious lie. “That’s why I only brought along Seyton and Siward. Siward works late, and Seyton was just around.” 

“And yet somehow the Norse Riders were tipped off, and so was SWAT.” Duncan said. “Not telling anyone… that’s very irresponsible of a Unit head.” 

“Sorry…” Duff said, looking at his lap, unclenching his fists. 

“But I do wonder if the Norse Riders have a spy.” Duncan said. “I should talk to SWAT tomorrow, ask them to talk to the captive Norse Riders.” Duff sat up in his seat. 

“Seems fair.” Caithness said. “Duff, could you drop me off at me and Mentieth’s?” 

“Sure.” Duff said. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” 

“Of course.” Duncan said. “And where will you be staying?” 

“I usually stay at Malcolm’s house when I can’t drive home.” Duff said. “I’ll be alright.” 

“I’ll get the bill.” Lennox said cheerfully. “See you!” 

“So.” Banquo caught up to Macbeth. “What  _ really  _ happened.” 

“Well… it was just like I said, until the part with the fake Svein.” Macbeth said, keeping his gaze firmly on the pavement. 

“So what happened?” 

“He didn't have a gun. He was facing away. Duff shot him.” Macbeth said. “Three times. He took the helmet off, and that’s when we both realized it was a fake.” 

Banquo was silent. He reached, took Macbeth’s hand. 

“Duff started crying.” Macbeth said. “I hadn’t seen him cry like that since the motorcycle accident.” 

“And the second man?” 

“He would’ve told everyone.” Macbeth said. “I think Duff realized it too, but I -” 

“Took care of it?”    
“We’re even, now.” Macbeth finished, shaking himself off. “Me and Duff. We’re even.” 

“Even for what?” Banquo asked. Macbeth shook his head. 

“It’s not something I’d like to talk about.” Macbeth said. 

“Ah.” 

“You can find your way home, right?” Macbeth asked. “Inverness is right there.” A woman was waiting at the entrance. Red-haired, tall. “And Lady is waiting. Goodbye Banquo. Tell Fleance I said hello.” 

“I will.” Banquo said. He let go of Macbeth’s hand. “Sleep well, Macbeth.” 

Lady greeted him at the door. Banquo was jealous of how easy they interacted, how she was able to be there with him when  _ he _ couldn’t. 

Banquo stuffed his hands in his pants and walked home.

Getting into a hospital normally would be no easy task, but Duff knew Robert, who worked as a nurse on the night shift, and he had his ways of getting Robert to let him in. 

Duff slipped into the Norse Riders’ hospital room and put one hand on the gunshot wound. He pressed down, eliciting a squeal. 

“Talk.” Duff said. “How did you know we were coming?” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit happens. enter my queen

The phone was ringing. 

Cawdor woke up, rubbing his face. It was, what, seven in the morning? And he had requested the day off. Surely the station wasn’t falling apart without him. 

“Macdon…” Cawdor groaned. “ _ Mo Thine... _ get the phone for me…” 

No response. Cawdor rolled over and found a note. 

_ Went to the store for breakfast. Be back soon!! Love you! _

Cawdor smiled fondly, putting on his bathrobe and getting out of bed. He was greeted by Macdon’s dog - wolf - thing, Alpin, who licked Cawdor’s hand. 

“Good morning, Alpin.” Cawdor yawned, tying up some of his hair. “Are you going to get the phone, boy?” 

Alpin seemed more preoccupied with food, pushing Cawdor to the food. 

“I’ll get the phone.” Cawdor sighed. He grabbed it, and answered. 

“Cawdor speaking.” He yawned. 

“ _ We know you’re working for the Norse Riders. _ ” A familiar voice said. 

“I -” Cawdor blinked. “I’m -” 

“ _You have two options. You kill yourself or your precious Macdonwald is killed in your stead._ ” The voice continued. “ _You have_ ** _one hour_** _before SWAT shows up._ ” The line went dead. 

Cawdor dropped the phone. 

It had only taken five minutes for Duff to get a name. He’d waited, as he knew what no - one else would. He wrote it down, and took Robert home, as he’d biked to the hospital and was tired. 

First thing in the morning, Duff had called Duncan with the news with Malcolm’s phone.

“Cawdor.” He’d said. Duncan had sworn. 

“I’ll call SWAT.” Duncan hung up. Duff was vibrating with joy. This was his opportunity to get back into Duncan’s good graces, especially after the fiasco of last night. 

SWAT was dispatched to Cawdor’s house an hour after Duff called Duncan, seeing as Angus had a hangover and Banquo had to use his notorious hangover cure of raw eggs and cold water to get him into fighting shape. 

“Doors open.” Angus said. 

“That’s...odd.” Auley said, arm freshly out of their cast. “It’s like he’s expecting us.” 

“Let’s go in, but be cautious.” Banquo said quietly. He nudged the door open further. 

“Auley, check the upstairs, Angus, the kitchen, Banquo, with me.” Macbeth said. 

“May I join you?” It was Seyton, dark eyes sparkling. 

“Sure.” Macbeth groaned. “Don’t screw this up.” 

He and Banquo went to the living room first. And there he was. 

Cawdor, hanging from the ceiling. Dead.

A snarl, and a  _ massive _ dog lunged from the shadows, attacking Seyton and ripping at his arms with sharp teeth. 

Banquo took to trying to wrestle the dog off of Seyton. Seyton grabbed the dog by the face, and with a surprising amount of force, snapped the dog’s neck. Macbeth went to the body, looking at it. 

Cawdor looked almost ethereal.

Macbeth heard a gun cock. 

“You did this.” A man he’d seen occasionally hissed. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he had a gun pointed to Macbeth’s head. “You did this to him.” 

A gunshot sounded and the man let out a cry, gun moving away from Macbeth’s head. 

“Sorry Beth.” Banquo panted. “And Macdonwald, shut up.” He smacked Macdonwald in the head, knocking him out. 

“Thanks.” Macbeth said.

“With the absence of Cawdor, the Gang Unit needs a new head.” Duncan said. Duff perked up. “And I told you all last week that we’d be merging the Gang Unit, and Narco.” 

Duff started tapping his shoe against the floor. The noise it made sent a little burst of excitement up his body. 

“And I think I’ve made a decision.” Duncan paused, then turned to his deputy. “Malcolm, are you getting this down?” 

Malcolm nodded, adjusting his glasses. He looked up at Duff, curious. Duff allowed himself a smile, and Malcolm’s face flushed and he went back to his notes, a strand of long-ish grey hair tumbling out of the hair clip Malcolm was using. 

“And  _ where _ is Macbeth?” Duncan asked. 

“He’s probably just cleaning up, Duncan.” Lennox said, a smirk on his pale face. “You know SWAT. Plus a dog went after Seyton and Banquo, so -”

“Why was  _ Seyton  _ there?” Duff asked. He shrunk back at Duncan’s sharp look. “Sorry.” 

“And upon consultations with Lennox, and Caithness and Malcolm, we arrived at a decision.” Duncan said. 

“You mean you arrived at a decision.” Malcolm mumbled. “I was there to take notes. As always.” Duncan shot Malcolm a harsh glare. “Sorry.” 

“And we’ve decided, the new head of Organized Crime is Macbeth.” 

Duff nearly toppled out of his chair. Malcolm offered an apologetic wince. 

“Duff, we’ve moved you to Homicide.” Duncan said. “Seeing as Macdonwald is basically fired for assaulting Macbeth with a gun.” 

“Oh.” Duff said. 

“It isn’t that bad.” Caithness said sympathetically. She rolled her chair over to Duff, wrapping one arm around his shoulder. “We’ll be working together!!” 

“I  _ suppose. _ ” Duff sighed. “I...have to call my wife.” He got up, stuffing his hands in his pocket, and headed downstairs. 

_ It was supposed to be me. It probably could’ve been. _

_ If I didn't fuck up. _

“You sure you’ll be alright, Banquo?” Macbeth asked, examining the bandages on Banquo’s arm.

“I’ll be fine!” Banquo laughed. “No need to worry.” 

“You sure?” 

“I’m sure.” Banquo said. The nurse entered, a man with curly hair in a bun.  _ Robert _ was written neatly on his nametag. “Doc?” 

“We did some blood tests, the dog didn't have rabies, and you’ll be fine, officer.” Robert said with a kind smile. “Be sure to rest your arm, though. Don’t do anything stupid.” 

“You can’t count on that, Doc.” Macbeth said, elbowing Banquo in the side. Banquo squawked indignantly. “Banquo here does stupid shit all the time.” 

Robert sighed. “Don’t give me another reason to see you, boys. You’re cleared to go.” 

Out of the hospital at last, Banquo and Macbeth headed back to HQ, taking the long route. 

“You gonna listen to him?” Macbeth asked. 

“Fuck no. Taking it easy isn’t exactly in our job description, Macbeth.” Banquo snorted. “How else do we get our pay?” 

“Speaking of pay-” Macbeth started. “You think our handling of Svein will get our pay docked?”

“Hope not.” Banquo mumbled. “If anything, it should be Duff.” 

“Don’t.” Macbeth said. “He tries his best, you know.” 

“Sure he does.” Banquo sighed. They took the left, entering behind the building to the payphone entrance. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” A low voice said. Both Macbeth and Banquo jumped. 

There were three people in the alleyway. One was tall and broad and well-muscled, long red hair that brushed her expensive jumpsuit. Her boots were high-heeled, boosting her already impressive height. Her two companions were unremarkable, the only thing distinguishing them from any other member of the town was their grey overcoats, expensive and well-made. 

“Silvestra.” Macbeth growled. Silvestra let out a chuckle that seemed to vibrate in Macbeth’s chest. She advanced a little further. “What do you want.” 

“Why, I can’t say hello to an old acquaintance?” Silvestra asked, bubblegum lips curling into a sneer.

“We should go.” Banquo said. “Macbeth.” His voice sounded shaky.

“And I do have to congratulate you, after all.” Silvestra crooned. “For your promotion.” 

“My - My what?” Macbeth swallowed hard. Silvestra’s smile only seemed to grow, impossibly large and dazzling. 

“To Organized Crime.” Silvestra put one hand to her mouth in mock surprise. “You don’t know, yet? Oops.” 

“That’s impossible.” Macbeth said. “If anyone were to get that position, it’d be Duff.” 

“And what’s more, Hecate told me you’d be Chief Commissioner.” Silvestra finished. Macbeth stared at her. 

“That position would go to Malcolm.” Macbeth said weakly. “He's the Deputy.” 

“You’d be surprised.” Silvestra said. “And Banquo, if you play your cards right, Hecate guarantees Fleance the job of Chief Commissioner as well.” 

Banquo drew his gun, but so did Silvestra’s companions. 

“Banquo.” Macbeth said, grabbing his arm. “No.” 

Banquo reluctantly put his gun back in it’s holster. 

“Good day, Silvestra.” 

“Good day, Macbeth.” Silvestra turned on her heel and she and her companions vanished into the alleyway. 

Macbeth and Banquo arrived at the entrance, only for Duff to storm out, heading to the phone booth and angrily stabbing his finger at the keypad. 

“What’s up with him?” Banquo asked. “And why do his shoes sound odd?” 

“He wears shoes too big for him.” Macbeth said. “Always has.” 

Lennox emerged from the doorway, panting, and leaning on the doorframe to catch his breath. He and Macbeth locked eyes and his face flushed. 

“Congratulations!!” Lennox gasped out. “You’re head of Organized Crime!” 

“Homicide isn’t  _ so _ bad.” Duff lay back on the bed, examining the crack in the ceiling, a slash just like the one mauling his face. 

“Maybe so.” He said. “But I got passed up for  _ Macbeth _ , and he doesn’t know my team like I do.” 

“Mmm.” Duff sat up, looking at the locked bathroom door. “What did Meredith think?” 

“She doesn’t care about our job, you know that.” 

“You did talk to her, right?” Duff sighed.

“Yes, I talked to Meredith.” 

“And she’s aware you’re staying here for the rest of the week?” 

“She is aware. I did promise her I’d be home on Friday.” Duff said. 

“ _ Friday? _ Robert has the day off, Duff!!” 

“Oops.” 

“No, it’s fine, we can take Julia to a movie.” The door opened, and Malcolm flopped onto the bed. “You in the mood?” 

“When does Rob get home?” 

“Eleven, unfortunately. He’s got a late shift again.” Malcolm frowned. “So just, take your frustrations out on me.” 

“And Julia?” 

“She’s doing schoolwork.” Malcolm said, one hand touching Duff’s chest, brushing over the identical scars on his ribs with a ghostly touch. “You have me all to yourself.” 

“Wonderful.” Duff said. 

“Welcome home, darling.” Macbeth smiled as he stepped into Inverness Casino. Lady wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss. 

“Radiant as always, my love.” He said, brushing some ruby-red hair out of her face. “How has the Casino been?” Lady smiled, detaching herself from his neck, only to wrap one hand possessively around his waist.

“Business is fine, I suppose.” Lady said, allowing her smile to slip. “The Obelisk is taking a few of our regulars.” 

“Ah… I’m sorry.” Macbeth stood up on his tiptoes and kissed Lady on the cheek. She gave him a fond smile. 

“Hello Ma’am. Macbeth.” Jack nodded from the reception desk. 

“Hello Jack.” Lady greeted sweetly. “Beth, darling, is something wrong?” 

Macbeth shook his head, but Lady looked unconvinced. 

“You can  _ tell  _ me.” She said, leading him to the elevator. “Go on.” 

“Alright.” Macbeth said. “Well, for one thing I have gotten a promotion.” 

“Oh, wonderful!!” Lady pressed the button for their private floor. “You’re finally out of that dingy office.” 

“The catch is…” Macbeth sighed. “Hecate.” 

“Hecate?” 

“One of his associates told me that I’d be head of Organized Crime and then Chief Commissioner.” 

“Oh?” 

“And the first one came true, but Malcolm is his deputy…” Macbeth said. The elevator dinged and the door slid open. Lady led him to their bedroom.

“Things change.” Lady said. “Malcolm could fall out of favor. Or…” 

“Or?” 

“You could kill Duncan.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "like pegging your husband indisposed or?"

“I have a question.” Hecate looked up from her mirror. Fabian was lingering in the back of her room. He paused, biting on the inside of his cheek.

“Speak your mind, kiddo.” Hecate said. 

“I’m not really a kid anymore.” Fabian interjected with a laugh. Hecate smiled, putting on a new coat of lipstick. 

“You’ll always be to me, kiddo.” She said, patting her seat. Fabian sat down next to her, looking into the mirror. “What’s your question?” 

“It’s about Macbeth.” Fabian said, playing with his hair. “How do we know he’ll take the bait?” 

“Oh, Fabian.” Hecate patted his head. “The most constant people in the world are junkies, or moralists.” 

“You told me.” Fabian said, playing with the emerald green nail polish. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“There’s one more person that I can always depend on to act the way I predict.” Hecate said. “And that is a  _ lovestruck  _ junkie  _ and _ moralist.” 

“Why would I kill Duncan?” Lady smiled, settling herself on the bed. Macbeth sighed. “He’s been nothing but good to me.” 

“You truly think that?” Lady asked. 

“I do!” Macbeth said. “I’m not going to  _ kill my boss _ ! Especially not for a position I’m not even guaranteed to get! The position will fall to Malcolm.” 

“But if Hecate says you’ll be Chief Commissioner, maybe something could happen to Malcolm?” Lady suggested, lounging against the pillows. She patted the bed. Macbeth laid down next to her, and she started petting his hair. 

“Why are we trusting a notorious drug dealer?” Macbeth asked.

“Hecate is called the Invisible Hand for a reason.” Lady said. “And the first prediction came true.”    
“So I should  _ wait. _ ” Macbeth said. 

“No, you should kill Duncan.” Lady said. “Invite him to the casino to celebrate your promotion. I’ll drug his drink, and you kill him and blame it on the guards.” 

“Lady -” Macbeth said. “I don’t like this.” 

“You should grasp the opportunity, Macbeth!” Lady said. “You don’t get this often. Duncan leashes you with more responsibilities to get you on his side.” 

“We will discuss this later.” Macbeth said. 

“To alter favor is to fear.” Lady said. “Leave it to me.” 

“Hey Meredith.” Duff said. 

“ _ Hello, Duff. _ ” Meredith’s voice rang through the speaker. 

“How are the kids?” He asked.

“ _ Ewan has a toothache. _ ” Meredith tsked. “ _ I’m taking him to the dentist. _ ” 

“Oh.” Duff frowned. “Are you going to take him to the doctor? Is it serious?” 

Meredith let out a laugh. “ _ I don’t think it’s too serious, Duff. Don’t worry _ .” Duff relaxed. “ _ You’ll be home for the Pre-Birthday, right? _ ” 

“Of course I will.” 

“ _ It’s a weekday. _ ” 

“I understand that.” Duff said. “Ewan’s birthday is more important than my job. I’ll ask Duncan, he’s got kids, don’t worry.” 

“ _ Alright. _ ” Meredith hummed. “ _ Love you. _ ” 

“I love you too.” Duff said, hanging up. He looked into the kitchen, seeing Malcolm sipping at a dark coffee. Robert entered the room and planted a kiss on Malcolm’s head. Malcolm tugged him down into a full on kiss. 

Duff knew he needed to leave so no one would suspect his and Malcolm and Robert’s...thing. 

“I’ll see you at work, Malcolm.” He said. Malcolm smiled. “And Rob? Tonight.” 

“Love you too.” Robert said. Duff got his coat and shoes, and left to work. 

“Who’s taking over SWAT now that you’re gone?” Banquo asked. Macbeth hummed.

“Seyton, I believe. It was either that, or Siward transferred to Homicide, and being a former  _ Norse Rider _ of all things is important for the Organized Crime unit.” Macbeth said. “He and Seyton don’t get along, and Duff usually was around to stop the arguments.” 

“Siward was a Norse Rider?” Banquo asked, surprised. “Never would’ve guessed.”

“I know, right?” Macbeth said. “But I verified. Took him to the Norse Riders we had in the hospital and they both recognized him. He even had the tattoo on his chest.” 

“Wild.” Banquo mused. “He just seemed so innocent.” 

“In other news, Lady is hosting a party at Inverness.” Macbeth said. “Everyone’s invited. You should come.” 

“Oh, Macbeth. Of course!” Banquo smiled. “You should come visit more often, Fleance misses you.” 

“How are his studies going?” 

“He’s working away.” Banquo snorted. “He’s extremely dedicated, you know.” 

“He’ll make a great police officer, you know.” Macbeth said. “Maybe Chief Commissioner.” 

“You can’t tell me you seriously think Hecate’s “prophecies” will come true?” Banquo laughed. “Macbeth, it’s just Hecate trying to trick us.” 

“I guess.” Macbeth said. Banquo could tell he wasn’t convinced. But Banquo didn't push any further.

“Jack!” Lady called. 

“Yes Ma’am?” The receptionist chirped. 

“Are we all set for tonight? I want everything to be perfect.” 

“You always do, Ma’am.” Jack chuckled. “We’re all set, no worries.” 

“You know me too well, Jack.” Lady smiled. “This is why you’re in charge of such things.” 

Jack laughed. 

“I should show you how to arrange things.” Lady said. “In case I’m out or…” She paused delicately. “Indisposed.” 

“Busy with Macbeth, you mean, Ma’am?” Jack teased. Lady laughed. 

“Again, you know me too well.” Lady sighed. “Remember to use the fancy glasses. This is the Chief Commissioner after all.” 


	5. Chapter 5:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> local man trips the fuck out and may have killed his boss

Duff felt out of place at this party. Maybe it was because until yesterday he’d been simply Narco Boss and today he was the head of Homicide. Caithness had brought her roommate and coworker, Menteith, along. Duff was tempted to bring Robert as his plus-one, but Malcolm had beaten him to it, which was fair, as they had lived together longer and had a plausible cover story. 

“Enjoying the party, Duff?” Macbeth sat down next to him. Duff looked to Malcolm, who was chatting animatedly about something from his philosophy major class, at Robert, who was listening attentively, and Duncan, who looked bored out of his mind. Duff was grateful Malcolm didn't notice. 

“Oh, yes.” Duff startled back to the conversation at hand. “I’m more of an Obelisk guy myself, but…” 

They sat in silence for a while. 

“We haven’t really talked since…” Duff shrugged. “The early days of the Force.” 

“The skin graft incident.” Macbeth shrugged. “Yeah. I… um… sorry for that.” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” Duff said. “I’m over it. I was just…” 

“Just?” 

“I think we should talk more, is all.” Duff blurted. Macbeth smiled, looking a bit surprised. 

“Of course.” He said. “We should.” 

“Macbeth!” Lennox called from a table. “Could I talk to you?” 

“Oh - Lennox!” Macbeth ventured over to Lennox’s table. Duff went back to watching Malcolm talk. Duncan exited the conversation, heading over to get a drink, giving Duff the opportunity to slip in. 

“Hello.” He said. “Malcolm, you were saying?” 

“Congratulations.” Lady said, handing Duncan a drink. 

“What for, ma’am?” Duncan laughed. 

“Getting rid of Cawdor.” Lady said. “I’m glad you were able to weed him out so efficiently.” 

“We were just lucky.” Duncan said. 

“Lucky that he hung himself.” Lady agreed, enjoying the uncomfortable expression on Duncan’s face. “With only the testament of a Norse Rider on your side, you had very little evidence.” 

“Yes, we’re lucky.” Duncan stared off at one of the tables.

“So congratulations on that call, Chief Commissioner.” Lady said. “Whatever did you say to him?” 

“I don’t like what you’re implying.” Duncan said. 

“I think it was a good call.” Lady said. “Save the months of investigation.” 

“Well…” Duncan sighed. “It’s...it was hard. But it would save all of us in the long run.” 

“You made the right choice.” Lady crooned. “Enjoy the party.” 

“So, how’s the new office?” Lennox asked. 

“It’s...nice.” Macbeth said. “Weird. Big. Does it get easier?” 

“Oh, moving up in the world?” Lennox laughed. “It does. You just have to be ambitious. Grab your fate, you know?” 

“Yeah…” Macbeth said, drumming his fingers on the table. “Yeah.” 

“If you need help, my office is one floor down.” Lennox said. “You don’t need to make an appointment. Ross will let you in.” 

“Thanks, Lennox.” Macbeth said. Lennox smiled. 

“Anytime, Macbeth.” Lennox said. “Would you -” He was interrupted by Duncan standing up at a new table, and tapping his fork against a glass. 

“Good evening everyone!” Duncan said. “Thank you to our Hostess, for keeping our company tonight!!” There was scattered applause. Caithness loudly yelled “Step on me!” much to Mentieth’s annoyance. 

“And thank you to SWAT for taking down most of the Norse Riders!” Duncan said. Angus and Auley both stood up, followed by Banquo and Macbeth. They received their own applause. 

“And my final announcement, seeing as we’ve stopped the Norse Rider’s only redemption, is that I’ll be working you all harder than ever to catch Hecate.” Duncan said mischievously. “You all should get some sleep, Lord knows you’ll need it in the coming weeks. Party’s over, for now.” 

Lennox pouted. 

“What did you want to ask me, Lennox?” Macbeth asked, watching Duncan crack a yawn. 

“You’re staying here, with Lady, right?” Lennox asked. 

“Yes?” Macbeth said questioningly. 

“Nevermind, then.” Lennox got up. “Goodnight, Macbeth.” 

“Oh, um -” Macbeth reached out, 

pulled his hand back. “Goodnight, Lennox.” 

He vanished into the crowd. 

“You can stay the night, Chief Commissioner. The Inverness doubles as a hotel.” Lady said, guiding an exhausted Duncan up the stairs. “Deputy Chief -” 

“I’m going home.” Malcolm smiled. “Thank you. Robert? Duff?” 

Duff and Robert presumably followed Malcolm out. 

“What an odd bird.” Duncan laughed, then yawned. 

Macbeth sat alone in the casino. He couldn’t do it, not on his own. 

He needed a fix. A shot. He’d been sober for years, but this called for it. 

“You’re so wasted, Angus.” Auley cackled. “Stop  _ pissing on the train!! _ ” 

“I piss where I  _ want _ , Auley!” Angus said, zipping up his pants. “Old Bertha ran over my dad.” 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, he deserved it.” Judging by both people’s laughter, Banquo could tell both of the younger members of SWAT were drunk. He sighed and continued punching Fleance’s number in the payphone. His own voice hit his ears. 

“ _ This is Banquo, leave a message! _ ” 

“Hey Fleance, I’ll be home a little late, I have two  _ idiots _ to deal with!” He made sure to say the last part loud enough for Auley and Angus. “Don’t worry too much about me. You better be in bed when I get home. Love you.” 

“We’re not  _ idiots!! _ ” Angus protested. “Auley can’t hold their alcohol, and that’s not  _ my  _ fault.” 

“Whatever you say, train-pisser!!” Auley yelled. “At least my girlfriend loves me!” 

“You have a  _ GIRLFRIEND?! _ ” Both Banquo and Angus asked. 

“Her name...is Coira. And she….” Auley laughed. “Is  _ CUTE _ .” 

“She’s dating you cause she feels sorry for you.” Angus deadpanned. 

“Fuck y’all.” Auley pouted. “You’re mean to me.” 

Banquo spotted another person walking towards the train. “Guys. Stop. You might’ve woken someone up.” 

“No,  _ YOU _ .” Came the inevitable reply from both parties. Banquo at that very moment wished he was drunk.

“Who’s there?” He called. 

“A friend.” It was Macbeth. Banquo relaxed. 

“Hello, Macbeth!” Banquo said. 

“AULEY HAS A GIRLFRIEND!!” Angus said, making a wide gesture to a now smug-looking Auley. 

“Oh, uh.” Macbeth hesitated, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “Alright.” 

“You two wait by Bertha.” Banquo said. “I’m driving you both home tonight. You’re too drunk to even stand. Macbeth, walk with me?” 

“Sure.” Macbeth said, following Banquo to his car. 

“Is something wrong?” Banquo asked. “Hecate’s prophecies? I’ve been thinking of them as well.” 

“No, I… I’ve forgotten about them.” Macbeth shook his head violently. “Taking a night walk.” 

“Macbeth.” Banquo finally reached his car. “Whatever you do, be careful. You’re a good man.” 

“I’ll be alright, Banquo.” Macbeth said. “Go take the guys home.” 

“See you tomorrow.” Banquo said, getting in the car. 

“You too.” Macbeth said, offering a smile. Banquo started the car and drove back to the train.

Macbeth finally reached the station, abandoned except for the junkies who’d made it their home. 

“Are you selling?” He asked one. 

“Who’s asking?” The man lifted his head. “A  _ cop?! _ ” He backed up. “I’m not going to jail!!” Macbeth tried to stop him, but he ran off. Macbeth swore under his breath. 

"Looking for a fix?" Macbeth spun around, his shoes squeaking on the station's marble floors. 

There was a boy, no more than fifteen, sitting on a bench. He looked completely out of place in the home of junkies thanks to his bright ginger hair, tied in a loose ponytail with a ribbon, and the clothes he was wearing, expensive-casual. He looked like a rich kid, but he sat like he owned the place. 

"Who are you." Macbeth snarled. 

"Hecate sent me." The boy said simply. "Said you might need this." He opened his hands to show a tiny silk pouch.

"What do I pay?" Macbeth asked, reaching for it.

"First bag's free." The boy smiled, handing it to him. He stood. "Everyone needs a little courage now and again." 

Macbeth watched as the boy meandered off, and as the shadows covered him entirely. 

He turned and headed back to the Inverness, unable to shake the feeling he was being watched.

"What did I tell you, kid." Hecate asked, watching Macbeth go. "There is no one more predictable than a lovesick junkie and moralist." 

Fabian let out a snort, and Hecate's hand came down to ruffle his hair. 

Macbeth lined some of the powder up on the bathroom sink, rolled up a little note included in the bag and snorted it.

It took a moment to kick in, but his body welcomed it, like the embrace of a long-forgotten lover. 

Lady finished examining the tables and sending the staff home for the night, checking the clock. Eleven P.M.

“Jack?” She asked. “Before you go, have you seen Macbeth?” 

“He left an hour ago Ma’am.” Jack said. “He’s just returned. He went to the bathroom, and then to the elevator.” 

“Thank you, Jack.” Lady said. “Have a good night.” 

“You too, Ma’am.” Jack said, before heading out the door. Lady entered the elevator, and pushed the button for Duncan’s floor. 

Six paces was all Macbeth needed to throw a knife. Did he even need to throw a knife? He pushed open Duncan’s door. One breath. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. He held the knife above Duncan’s sleeping body. 

Maybe he shouldn’t do this. He backed away, going to the door. 

“Macbeth?” It was Duncan. “What’s going on?” 

“T - Thought I s - s - saw something, Sir.” Macbeth stammered. “But… N - Nothing.” 

“Alright.” Duncan’s voice was calm. Macbeth looked at the doorknob. 

Duncan had a gun. It was pointed at him. Lady was right. Duncan wanted to kill him. He only had a knife. 

A knife. 

A throwing knife.

Six paces. He’d walked six paces

Macbeth turned on his heel. Threw the knife.

Lady arrived at the floor to Macbeth standing outside Duncan’s room, staring off into space. A bloody dagger was clutched in one fist. 

“Macbeth?! Macbeth!!” She hissed. He snapped to attention. 

“It’s done.” He moaned. 

“Why do you have the - remember the plan!!” Lady took the dagger. “The  _ guards!! _ ” 

“I can’t… I heard someone speak…” Macbeth said, voice getting higher. “Macbeth shall sleep no more.” 

Lady grabbed his face, then examined his pupils. 

“Macbeth.” She said slowly. “Are you  _ high? _ ” 

“Everyone needs a little -” “Dear  _ god!! _ ” Lady huffed. “Go to bed. Sleep off your high. I’ll deal with this.” Macbeth stumbled off, and Lady placed the dagger in the grip of one of the bodyguards in the joint room. After making sure everything looked right, she left the room and headed to her room, washing her hands in the sink, watching the red swirl down the drain. 

For a moment she worried it would stain. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes...jo nesbo's ideas....fun

_ Bzzt! _ Duff rang the doorbell of The Inverness. Duncan had told him to come pick him up around eight, but no one was answering. 

Finally, at eight fifteen, the receptionist opened the door. 

“Hello.” Duff said. “I’m here for Duncan.” 

“I’ll call him down.” The receptionist said. He got on the phone. 

“Hello?” He asked. He frowned. “Nothing.” He dialed a different number. 

“Hello? Lady? Oh, hello Macbeth. We have a situation, could you bring the master key down here?” He must’ve gotten a response, because he hummed and hung up. 

“Why can’t Macbeth just open the door?” Duff asked. 

“I’d assume you want to do it yourself?” Jack said. “Keep your good standing.” 

Duff stuffed his fists in his pockets. The elevator whirred to life and Duff turned. Macbeth came out of the elevator, rubbing one eye with his fist. 

“Good morning, Jack.” 

“Good morning, sir.” Jack chirped. “The Master Key?” Macbeth handed it over. He looked haggard and exhausted. “Sir, which floor is Duncan on?” 

“Third.” Macbeth yawned. “May I have some coffee? Duff?” 

“I’m -” 

“Here you are, Sir.” Jack handed them both a cup of coffee. Duff stared at it. 

“Is there cream in this?” He asked. 

“Only a bit.” Macbeth said. “You like cream, Duff?” 

“No, I’m fine.” Duff said. “Can you just take me to Duncan’s room?” 

“Of course.” Macbeth said, pressing the elevator button. The doors slid open, and Duff stepped in, followed by Macbeth, who slid the card in and pressed the button with  **3** written on it. The elevator whirred to life. 

“Sleep well?” Macbeth asked. 

“Not particularly. There was a wicked storm last night.” Duff said. He made a mental note to call Meredith and check in on Emily. She’d always hated the storms. “You?” 

“Well enough.” Macbeth said, averting his eyes. “Your floor, sir.” Duff took the card as the doors slid open. 

“Which room?” 

“First one on the right.” Macbeth said. Duff felt a sense of Deja Vu, but he brushed it off when a three second mental examination found nothing. He took the card and swiped it through the lock. It flashed green, and Duff pushed the door open. 

The scent of blood filled the air, and Duff nearly retched. Then he noticed the dead body in the bed. 

“Macbeth!” Duff said weakly. “Come here.” 

Macbeth stared at the body, then to Duff, then back to the bed. He and Duff looked at each other. 

“F-” Duff started. Macbeth shook his head and Duff put his hand to his mouth, biting down on some of his exposed palm. 

“Where are the bodyguards.” He asked. Duff’s stomach sunk. Macbeth threw open the conjoined door. There was blood in that room too.

Except the bloody people were alive. There were knives in their hands. 

“Son of a  _ bitch _ .” Macbeth snarled, taking his gun.    
“Macbeth, what are you -?!” Duff yelped as Macbeth shot both bodyguards in the forehead. “Macbeth!! What the fuck?! You don’t just  _ kill the suspects!! _ ” 

“They would’ve died anyways.” Macbeth said dully. 

“What’s going on?!” It was Lady. Duff ventured out of the room. 

“I need your phone.” Duff said. “The Chief Commissioner is dead.” 

Macbeth sat at one of the Blackjack tables. Caithness sat next to him, with Menteith on her left. Duff was drumming his fingers on the green fabric, then stopped to play with his blonde hair. Lennox was scuffing his shoes on the floor. Malcolm took a breath, and continued cleaning his glasses. 

“What have we found out?” He asked, putting his glasses back on his face. Macbeth remembered back in the police academy. It hadn’t been that long ago when Malcolm’s hair had been black, but it had bleached out with stress. Macbeth wondered how old Malcolm was. He knew he was too young to be gray. “H - Hello?” His voice broke, and he quickly coughed to correct it. 

No one said anything.

“Alright then. Lennox.” Malcolm addressed him. “Anything suspicious about the guards? Money transfers? Anything?” 

“No, actually.” Lennox said. “It’s… very odd.” Malcolm took his glasses off to clean them again. 

“Do we have any theories for the murder?” Malcolm asked. “Duff? Macbeth?” 

“The Norse Riders.” Macbeth said. Duff blinked, a bit taken aback. “We destroyed their drug operation, they’re taking revenge.” 

“I’m...not inclined to believe that.” Malcolm said.

“And why not?” Macbeth asked, staring Malcolm down in a way he saw Duncan do once. Malcolm merely lifted his chin and clasped his hands on the table. 

“Why would the Norse Riders go after someone whose only goal has ever been to stop their competition?” Malcolm asked. “Duncan’s first speech upon being sworn in? His main goal has been to catch  _ Hecate _ . The Norse Riders are just a side project to him. He said that multiple times.” 

“You’re right.” Menteith piped up. “It doesn’t make sense. Not motive or killing style.” 

“Oh?” Malcolm asked. 

“See, me and Caith thought the same thing about the Norse Riders.” Menteith continued. “But the style is all wrong. Duncan was killed by a knife to the artery. A quick stab, but no blood. You know how that deputy of Svein’s - what was his name?” 

“Harald.” Caithness supplied. 

“He loves his bloodshed.” Menteith said. “And he prefers to get his hands dirty, all of them do. What we do know about Hecate is he’s the hands-off type. Gets other people to do the dirty work, which makes sense in recruiting the body guards. And correct me if I’m wrong, but the Norse Riders don’t use knives.” 

“Siward does.” Duff piped up, giving Macbeth a hesitant smile. “He throws knives. It’s more of a party trick than anything, but I would check with him to be safe.” 

“I don’t see what  _ Siward _ has to do with -” 

“Former Norse Rider.” Caithness supplied.

“Ah.” Menteith said.

“Now we’re getting somewhere!” Malcolm said with a smile. “This investigation might take a while, so I’d advise you to talk to your family and friends, and cancel plans for the next few days. I’ll see you at noon at HQ. Dismissed.” 

Banquo woke up to the sun on his face. He had a headache. Auley and Angus had persuaded him to stop by a bar, and Banquo had never been one to back down from a challenge, especially when booze was involved. Maud had said it was his worst quality, but what did Maud know. 

He heard a rustle, and sat up, groaning.

“Fleance?” He rubbed his face. 

“Downstairs, studying.” It was Macbeth. Why was Macbeth in Banquo’s room? Did he… Oh god. Banquo made sure he was fully clothed and sighed in disappointment. 

“Macbeth?” He asked. “Why are you in my room?” 

“You wouldn't answer your phone.” Macbeth said. He was holding a photo of little Fleance. On his first day of school. Maud had taken the picture. “Duncan is dead.” 

“ _ What?! _ ” Banquo asked, ice in his veins. Macbeth turned to look at him. It might have been the light - no, it had to be the light - but Macbeth’s pupils looked smaller. “Who - who did - who?!” 

“I need you to kill Malcolm.” Macbeth continued. 

“Macbeth what the hell?!” Banquo asked. “I -” 

“If you don’t, he’ll find out that I killed Duncan.” Macbeth said. “And I might tell him about Hecate’s prophecies.” 

“Macbeth?!” 

“No one will ever trust you again. Fleance’s future in the police academy would be ruined.” Macbeth said. “Unless you kill Malcolm.” 

“Macbeth -” Banquo said weakly. 

“Yes?” 

“How?” Banquo said, defeated. “How would I kill Malcolm?” 

Malcolm took a deep breath, fiddling with the pine tree scent thing Robert had bought him for his car. He’d always liked cars, even as a kid and it earned him scorn for liking “ _ boyish _ ” things, and even when Julia and Robert had teased him about his obsession with them. He’d gotten his favorite car once he could afford it, and Robert hated it. Malcolm knew it was mostly a joke, because he would mope about it, and then Robert would kiss him until he felt better, and even made sure Julia never went too far with her hatred of the car. She was eco-conscious, despite her age, and also was of the opinion his car was ugly, which was incorrect, because Malcolm knew what ugly cars looked like and his was no such thing.

He caught movement in the parking lot and looked around. It was an hour and a half to noon. He was early. But he liked being early, especially when he was nervous. 

“Deep breaths.” He told himself, gripping the wheel. “Breathe.” He hung the little pine tree back up and unlocked the car door, gathering his things. 

The back door opened and shut. A gun was pressed to his head. 

“Drive.” A voice said. 

“Where?” Malcolm asked, chest catching. A thousand thoughts whirled through his head.  _ Someone’s found out, someone’s found out, someone’s found out and I am going to die. _

“To the docks.” The voice said. Malcolm recognized it. 

“Banquo?” He asked. The gun’s safety clicked off, and Malcolm slowly reversed the car, heading out of the parking lot. He tried to take a deep breath, but his chest felt way too tight, his limbs felt cold. He could not dissociate now, he  _ could not _ dissociate now, because if he stayed in his body he could bargain for his life. Not that there was much to bargain if Banquo  _ knew _ . He was  _ screwed _ if Banquo knew. 

When he reached the docks by the canal, he stopped, parked the car. It was cloudy, cold. Malcolm took a shuddering breath. 

“Are you going to kill me?” He asked, trying to keep himself in the moment. “Why?” 

“Sign this.” The gun was moved and a piece of paper was slid into his lap. Malcolm didn't want to look down, but he forced himself to pick it up and read it. 

The Norse Riders threatened my daughter Julia if I did not kill Chief Commissioner Duncan. They have asked more favors of me that I cannot comply with. And that, along with the safety of my daughter, is why I have drowned myself.

Malcolm reread the note. 

“What is this…” He asked. This was different. This wasn’t what he expected, but it didn't make it any less terrifying.

“Just  _ sign the note _ .” Banquo said. 

“And what if I don’t?” Malcolm challenged. He cursed himself and his big mouth immediately. 

“Then I shoot you in the head and the note looks something like this.” Another piece of paper slid into Malcolm’s lap. 

The Norse Riders threatened my daughter Julia if I did not kill Chief Commissioner Duncan. They have asked more favors of me that I cannot comply with. To protect my family, I have shot us all so the Norse Riders cannot hurt my family anymore.

Malcolm felt like throwing up. He almost did. He felt dizzy. 

"This is the shittiest suicide note I've ever seen." Malcolm said after reading the note for the third time, slightly light-headed.  _ Am I really committing to this? _ He thought incredulously. "You don't have any final messages or anything. It's so...impersonal." 

Banquo looked almost concerned. 

"If I was ready to  _ die _ I would probably leave a long list of apologies." Malcolm continued. "I don't want anyone blaming themselves for my choice. Plus, this bland thing, it reads more like a PR statement then a deeply personal note to my daughter and h-" He caught himself. "My family. Is that what this is, Banquo? A PR statement for people to read out and shift the blame onto me?"

"Just  _ sign _ ." Banquo hissed. 

"If I'm doing this, I'm writing my own suicide note." Malcolm said. "I don't want anyone else hurt because of you." Banquo flinched. "Now get me some paper."

“I didn't bring any.” Banquo said. Malcolm nodded and reached into his glove box, finding Julia’s stapler. She’d left it in there so she could do homework on the way to school in elementary. Malcolm’s hands shook as he stapled the notes together, front to front. He thought of Julia, of Robert, of Duff and his eyes welled up with tears. 

“I don’t want to die.” He said, voice shamefully thick. Banquo said nothing. 

Hands shaking even more, Malcolm started to write. 

_ Robert. _

_ By the time you are reading this, I am probably dead.  _

_ I didn't intend to die, but my hand has been forced, by someone I trusted. It was either me or my family, and while that is not a choice I ever thought I would have to make, I know the right choice and will make it. And as such, I have drowned myself. _

_ My love. I am sorry I had to leave you. We’ve had a good run, and I want you to know this isn’t your fault. The fault is mine for trusting the wrong people. I love you very much, more than anything. You deserve the world, the moon, the stars. I hope that you won’t hate me for this. If I had a choice I would have come home to you instead of die.  _

_ God, I’m scared. I don’t want to die. Do you think it hurts to die? You’re a nurse, maybe you’d know. Will drowning hurt? I don’t know, and I am scared.  _

_ Tell Julia she means the world to me. Tell her that I love her. She is the light of my life and every time I see her I am filled with pride. She will do great things, I know it, but never let her forget she is loved.  _

_ Tell you-know-who that he is not at fault, and that he couldn’t have stopped it. I am keeping his name anonymous as the person holding me at gunpoint knows about us and I will not doom another. Tell him he meant the world to me too, and keep him close. You will need each other in the coming days. Tell him that the time we three spent together are some of my happiest memories. I love him, and I know you do.  _

_ I wish we had more time. What I wouldn't give for more time with you. I would let the stars burn out for one more day with you and Julia and him. I am so sorry. _

_ Please do not let them touch my body when I am gone. I will die as what I always have been. A man. _

_ Love you always, _

_ Malcolm  _

Malcolm signed the note, wiping his face. 

“Please.” He said. “Don’t let them read this out. Don’t read it. You owe me.” Malcolm hiccuped, putting his head in his hands. He sobbed for a few minutes, rocking back and forth, hands in his hair. 

Once he finished crying, Banquo handed Malcolm some chains. 

“Around your waist.” He said, almost gently. Malcolm attached them, and stepped out of the car. 

“Walk to the edge.” Banquo said. “To the dock.” Malcolm obeyed, more tears burning in his eyes.  _ Be brave. _ He thought, wiping his face.  _ Be brave _ . Banquo followed him to the edge. 

“Now jump.” Banquo said.    
"Push me." Malcolm said, extending his arms, one after the other, ignoring the fear building in his chest, the knocking fear of being  _ known _ that terrifies Malcolm day in and day out. The knowledge that when he dies, that when he is dead the coroners will look under his shirt and  _ know _ what he was and why he was killed, because obviously that would be why he was killed, why he is dead before thirty, why he is dead and cut open because he will never - "Push me if you want me dead so bad." 

Banquo hesitates, pauses. Malcolm shudders, trembling in the wind. "Go on." Malcolm said. "Do it yourself." 

Banquo lets out a sharp sob. "Christ, Malcolm, I can't do that." He said. "Just jump." 

Malcolm hadn't considered dying of his own hand, but he knew he couldn't do that. It would not be his choice to end up on a table, a corpse.  _ A woman. _

"No." Malcolm said. "Push me."

Banquo is silent for a long time. 

“Drowning is easier.” He said at last. “Why I didn't just shoot you in the car. It’s like going to sleep.” 

“I’m not tired.” Malcolm blurted. “I don’t want -” He shuddered, suddenly emboldened by the rushing water. “What do you know, Banquo? How much? I - I understand why you’d want me dead, and that - that’s why you’re trying to pin Duncan’s murder on me. How much do you know?” 

“What do you mean?” Banquo asked.    
“What do you know about  _ me?! _ ” Malcolm asked, almost hysterical. “Banquo I need to know, before you kill me!” 

“You - What are you  _ on _ about?!” Banquo asked. “I’m doing this because -” He stopped.

Malcolm’s stomach dropped. “Not because of me?” He asked weakly. Now Banquo will get curious, he’ll read the note, he’ll know, he’ll know, he’ll  _ know _ . Malcolm moaned in anguish and threaded his hands through his hair, sinking to the dock.

“Well yes and no.” Banquo said. “It’s just...it’s your job.”

“What -” Pieces fell into place, and he looked up at Banquo. “You’re… working with Hecate.” 

“Sure! Yes.” Banquo cried out. “Just me. Only me. Now  _ jump _ .” 

“You know, they’ll find you out.” Malcolm said. “That’s how it works. That's how the police work. You won’t be able to hide forever.” 

Banquo reached and took Malcolm’s badge. If Malcolm wasn’t currently hyperventilating, he would’ve grabbed Banquo’s arm and thrown  _ him  _ into the canal, but he was, so Banquo held the badge in silence for a bit. 

He threw it into the water. 

“It’ll sink to the bottom and disappear.” He said. Malcolm watched it sink with a detached sort of fear. “That’s what you need to do, Malcolm. Disappear. Forever.” 

It was noon, and everyone was there but Malcolm. Macbeth took a deep breath, watching people chat amongst themselves, waiting patiently. He remembered what Lady had said. 

_ Take charge when the power vacuum takes hold _ . She’d said. So Macbeth stood up. 

“I’m aware Malcolm isn’t here.” Macbeth said. “Someone call his...brother-in-law, was it? Robert. Check when he left, search for his car. We won’t start without him.” There was murmured assent, and Lennox took to the phone. He came back with a worried frown. 

“Malcolm left the house early.” He said. “Should I start a missing person’s report?” 

“Of course.” Macbeth said. “Someone run through the cameras, check for him.” People split off. 

Seyton came back with the oddest report. That Malcolm had been in the parking garage and then turned around and left. 

At 1 pm, Ross, Lennox’s secretary dared to poke his head in. 

“We found Malcolm’s car by the canals.” He said timidly. 

“Send divers.” Macbeth said. 

“How do we know Malcolm’s dead? Maybe he was kidnapped?” Duff asked, an expression Macbeth couldn’t place on his face. “I don’t think-.” 

“He’s right.” Ross said. “Banquo found a note on his car seat."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> banquo needs to rethink his choice in men

The phone rang. Robert nearly jumped out of his skin. He’d been pacing the room for almost an hour. He grabbed it. Maybe it was news of Malcolm. God, Malcolm -

“Robert speaking.” He said. 

“ _ Robert? _ ” It was Duff. His voice sounded odd. “ _ Robert, hey… _ ” 

“Duff! Have you found Malcolm?” Robert asked. “Is he alright?!” 

“ _ Robert, I’m so sorry. _ ” Duff said. Robert’s stomach dropped. “ _ He’s gone. _ ” 

“No -” Robert shook his head. “What - No, I saw him leave, he’s fine, he has to be!” 

“ _ We found his car on the docks. _ ” Duff said. “ _ He left a note. _ ” 

“He… Jumped?” Robert asked, gripping the table. “No… No… He wouldn't -” 

“ _ Not willingly. _ ” Duff corrected. “ _ Someone made him jump. But regardless. He’s gone, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. _ ” 

Robert sunk to the floor, gripping the phone in a vice grip. “No.” He managed. “He’s not gone, he can’t be.” He’d just seen Malcolm this morning, woken up to him curled up on the bed, eaten breakfast with him and Julia, kissed him before he left for his first day as Chief Commissioner. It wasn’t - He couldn’t - 

“ _ Not to be insensitive, but could you call his brother? _ ” Duff asked. “ _ Just… let him know. And… And could you come down to the station and - _ ” 

“Is there a body?” Robert asked, eyes burning. 

“ _ No. Just… The note was addressed to you. And the car - We need you to get the car. _ ” 

“Of course.” Robert said. “Okay.” He hung up.  _ Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.  _ But that gave out, and Robert started to cry. He rocked back and forth in a ball and howled, the new absence in his life tearing a hole in his heart. Malcolm couldn’t be gone, it just didn't make sense, it didn't work because who would take Julia to her soccer games? Who would be there in the night when Robert woke up from a nightmare? Who would make dinner, who would bring Duff home, who would be there for Robert to wake up to, who would be there to check the mail when Robert was asleep, who would water the gardens with too much passion, who would buy the worst cereals, who would - Robert let out a howl.

His husband was gone, and he was all alone. 

“You’ve got this, Macbeth.” Lennox said, patting him on the shoulder. “Go get em.” 

Macbeth swallowed, checked his watch. He and Lady had been working on the speech for three hours. His acceptance speech, explaining what happened to Malcolm, what happened with Duncan, and his plans as Chief Commissioner. During that time, Robert had come to get the car, walking with all the dignity as the situation allowed, now that a select few people knew of his true relation to Malcolm. He refused to meet anyone’s eyes. 

“They’re ready for you.” Lennox said. Macbeth nodded again. Lennox took one of Macbeth’s hands.

“Hey…” He said. “They’ll love you. You’re just like them, remember? One of the city.” 

“You’re right, Lennox.” Macbeth said. “Thanks.” 

“No problem, Macbeth.” Lennox smiled. “Now go get em, Sheriff.” 

“Sheriff?” Macbeth asked, confused. 

“Your funky tie.” Lennox said. Macbeth forgot his momentary panic in that moment and started to laugh. 

“Thanks, really.” Macbeth said, gathering his wits again. “That helped.” 

“Anytime.” Lennox said. 

Macbeth finally stepped out on the podium. Cameras flashed and recorders whirred, reporting to each station. Everyone wanted the story, and it made Duff ill, just a bit. Maybe it was knowing Malcolm personally, knowing that someone had forced him into jumping, and that everyone had wanted to hear his last words. He’d pleaded with Macbeth - for the sake of Malcolm’s dignity, to protect his family - to only read the parts relevant to the investigation, and Macbeth had relented at last, giving Duff a knowing look that made his skin crawl, but then he’d hugged him and Duff felt a little better. 

“Macbeth!!” One of the reporters called. “Is it true that the Deputy Chief Commissioner jumped into the canal?” Duff winced at the insensitivity of the statement and hoped Robert had his radio off. 

“It was under extreme circumstances, but yes.” Macbeth said. “Next?” 

“What are your plans as Chief Commissioner?!” Another voice asked. Macbeth drew himself upright, and took a breath. 

“My immediate plan is to figure out who is behind Duncan’s murder, which we suspect is related to the Norse Riders, as we’d recently stopped a big drug transport.” Macbeth said. “And after that, well, I will work to keep all drugs off our streets. I am one of you, I’m not from a high-class background, and I understand firsthand what drugs can do to people like you and me. And I’ll work with you, the people, in getting good jobs to support our youth.” 

There was a scattered applause, and Macbeth got more microphones shoved in his face. Duff turned to Lennox, who looked starry-eyed. 

“What do you reckon, Lennox?” He asked. 

“I’m moved, and inspired!!” He said with a smile. 

Duff looked down at his feet. At his shoes. They were too big, stuffed with newspapers. He wondered if that was how Macbeth felt at this very moment.

“You know he means  _ us _ , right?” Fabian asked. “Who he’s talking about on the radio. He means you and Silvestra and Bonus - us!” 

“Calm down, kiddo.” Hecate said, fiddling with her pawn. Fabian stared down at the chessboard, at the clear path he’d accidentally set. She put her pawn in place and it switched to a queen. “Check. But seriously. Fabes. Calm down.” 

“What’s to happen next?” Fabian asked, rocking his king back and forth. “Why are you so calm?” 

“Because they won’t turn to us directly.” Hecate said. “They’ll turn on each other, first. Castle. You haven’t moved your rook, have you?” 

“Oh!” Fabian nodded, and castled. “Thanks. How will they turn on each other?” 

“Banquo.” Hecate said. “Trust me kid, he’s gonna go, and the department will crumble. And in the midst of that, we’ll make sure Macbeth can’t touch us. Stop worrying, kiddo.” She moved her queen, taking Fabian’s bishop. “Checkmate.” 

“Okay, so, Homicide, what have we gathered.” Duff asked. 

Gowrie, one of his new coworkers, gave a slow shrug. “Duncan’s dead.” They said, going back to playing with their nose piercing. “Slice to the neck.” 

“Helpful.” Duff said. “ _ So _ helpful. Hazel? Lothian? Galloway?” The other three gave Duff looks ranging from indifference, to downright hostile, to a slightly manic grin.

“We don’t want you here.” Galloway said with a bright smile. 

“Caith?” Duff asked, electing to ignore the trio. “Please tell me you found something.” 

“Actually, we did!” Caithness said. “Menteith talked to Siward, and - Oh, hello Macbeth!” 

Duff turned. Gowrie stopped playing with their nose ring. 

“How is the investigation coming along?” Macbeth asked, sitting down at the table.

“Menteith was just saying.” Duff said. 

“I was talking to Siward.” Menteith said. “And asked him if any of the Norse Riders played with knives besides him.” 

“And?” Macbeth asked. 

“He said he was the exception.” Menteith said. “He’d taught himself to throw knives, and his skills are mediocre at best.” 

“He nearly killed me.” Caithness butt in. “And he wasn’t even at the party, so Siward’s out the window.” 

“Speaking of throwing knives.” Galloway piped up. “The knife the guard was holding had blood on the hilt. Like, where his hands were.” 

“Huh.” Duff said. “Caith, do you think you could like, drop the knife for that damage??”

“No, it would miss.” Caithness said. “I suppose you could just stab and let go?” 

“I don’t think that would work.” Hazel said. “You’d still get blood on your hands, wouldn't you?” 

“The guard had blood on his hands.” 

“Yes, but there would be some sort of empty space?” Lothian suggested. “What do you think, Chief Commissioner?” 

“I think we should talk to some of the current Norse Riders.” Macbeth said. “Just in case Siward’s info is off.” 

“I’ll do it.” Gowrie said, drawing themself up to their full height of six foot four. Duff felt a little intimidated, seeing as Gowrie was much taller, and even buffer than Duff was. 

“Alright.” Duff said. “Go.” Gowrie nodded and stalked off, somehow making themself bigger. 

“I smell fear.” Lothian deadpanned. Hazel let out a snort, scarred face cracking into a smile for once. Duff remembered that Hazel used to be on SWAT before an explosion rigged by one of her friends messed up her eyesight and face, and now she was in homicide, out of the line of fire, and put where her skills could be useful. He wondered if she missed being in SWAT. Maybe that’s why she was so sullen all the time. 

He’d figure out Lothian and Galloway too, and maybe Gowrie while he was at it. But he was stuck with them and it was the least he could do. 

“Hello, Aelf!!” Siward said. 

“ _ Hello, darling!! _ ” Aelflaed said. “ _ How is work? Do you think you could manage coming home tonight? _ ” 

“It’s not like we live in Fife, I can manage it.” Siward said. “How’s Osbjorn?” 

“ _ He misses you. I miss you _ .” Siward laughed. 

“I’m coming home!!” He said. “Don’t worry!! I’ll be home soon!! Kisses!!” 

“ _ Kisses!! _ ” 

He kissed the receiver and hung up, heading down to the garage. Car in the garage, keys in his pocket, knife in his sleeve. Everything was as it should be. He took a quick check of his pulse, looked in the mirror, a habit he was unable to break from his time with Svein and Art and Harold. 

Harold. 

Siward swore under his breath and wiped his face. It had been  _ years _ he had  _ moved on _ and yet he still ached inside when he thought of Harold. 

They’d been  _ stupid.  _ Stupid kids, who had snorted some drugs back when the Norse Riders sold more than flour and cocaine mixed together to make a quick buck, back when Siward had just gotten his tattoo and cried for three hours because it hurt, back when Harold had been there to show him the world. They’d gotten stupid high on what they were supposed to sell, Harold had gone to get some booze, and a man that Siward had suspected was somehow higher than both of them had shot. Siward had expected to spend his night buzzed and drunk, not on the floor of a convenience store, holding the body of the man he loved. 

And that was when Siward had been kicked out of the Norse Riders on Svein’s orders. And when he’d resolved never to do drugs again. And when he’d met Aelflaed.

She’d brought him home when he was going through withdrawal, been there through the tears and the shakes and the nerves and his quest to find a new job. They’d lived in her parent’s basement for a while, but with both of their salaries they’d moved into a new house just in time for the birth of Osbjorn. 

Siward allowed himself a smile as he took the shitty elevator down. It was Osbjorn and Aelflaed who’d gotten him through Harold’s death, and now he was happy. The elevator dinged, and Siward pried the door open (it was prone to sticking) and headed to his car. The dim light of the garage, the sunset, and the smoggy sky made his normally dark skin look almost gray-ish. He checked in his pocket. Car in the garage, keys in his pocket, knife in his sleeve.

He stuck his key in the lock of his car when he heard a noise. 

In the cramped garage it could’ve been anything, but Siward was prone to nerves, so he gave a quick look around, before twisting the key. There was the echo of a click. 

_ Calm down. _ Siward thought.  _ It’s probably just someone else leaving. You’re overthinking things.  _

He pulled the key out and reached for the handle when a  _ bang _ sounded, followed by an explosion of pain in his shoulder. That was how a Norse Rider shot. Go for the shoulder and then the head. But it  _ couldn’t  _ be a Norse Rider, Svein had promised him they wouldn't kill him, it had to be something else, but he put one hand on the wound and tried to go around the car to hide. 

The next shot went through the neck before he could make it. 

“Banquo?” Banquo sat straight up. 

“Oh. Macbeth.” He laughed nervously. “Hi.” He normally got weak at the knees with Macbeth around, but usually it wasn’t fear that motivated it. 

“Did you not use the chains?” Macbeth asked quietly. “Is that why Malcolm’s body is gone?” 

Banquo swallowed, tapped his pen. 

“He’s not dead.” He said. “I drove him to the airport and bought him a ticket out of here.” 

“So he could return?” Macbeth asked, eerily calm. Banquo shook his head. 

“Believe me. He’s a father.” Banquo said. “He knows if he comes back, his daughter is dead. He will wake up in the coldest flea-bitten attic and thank the gods that Julia lives another day.” 

Banquo waited for the inevitable anger, but instead Macbeth patted him on the shoulder. 

“Thank you.” He said. “For being a better man than I ever will. You saved an innocent man.” 

Banquo smiled weakly, the relief flooding through him. 

That’s when Galloway of Homicide poked his head in. 

“Siward’s dead.” He said sweetly. 

Banquo’s stomach dropped. 

“Hey Meredith.” 

“ _ Hello, Duff. I heard the announcement. I’m sorry. _ ” She said. 

“No, it’s -” The day’s events hit him and his breath shook. “I’m sorry. I won’t be able to come home. There’s been another murder.” 

“ _ Oh? _ ” Meredith said. 

“I’ll try to come home tomorrow.” He said. “I just - It’s hard.” 

“ _ I know. _ ” Meredith said sympathetically. “ _ Take a day off, I’m sure Macbeth would understand. _ ” 

“Later.” Duff said. “This is someone I knew. He had a wife and a kid. I’d want you to know what happened to me if I died.” 

“ _...Me too. But please come home for the weekend _ .” Meredith said. “ _ For the kids. For me _ .” 

“I will.” Duff said. “Love you.” 

“ _ I love you too _ .” Duff hung up the phone and sighed, heading back into the room. 

“Clearly a Norse Rider.” Caithness said. “Shot through the neck and the arm. The patterns match up.” 

“It’s a bit too convenient.” Meneith said. “We ask him about the Norse Riders, and the Norse Riders kill him?”

“A spy?” Lothian suggested. As one the members of Homicide turned to look at Duff. 

“Excuse me?!” Duff asked. “I’m no  _ spy! _ ” 

“If you say so!” Galloway said with his usual smile. Duff wanted to punch Galloway but restrained himself with a long sigh. 

“Who else was there?” Caithness said. “Me, Menteith, you four, Duff.” 

“Macbeth.” Hazel supplied, spinning in her chair. 

“Yeah but he’s the Chief Commissioner.” Duff said. “He wouldn't associate with Norse Riders.” 

The unspoken “ _ right? _ ” hung in the air like mist, vanishing but not completely out of mind, lingering in Duff’s brain like dew on a leaf. 

“Good morning Chief Commissioner!” Macbeth woke up Lady jumping on the bed. 

“Lady!” He yelped. Lady giggled, taking a pillow and playfully batting Macbeth with it. “It’s early!” 

“Rise and shine!!” She said. “You have work to do!” 

“Lady…” He yawned. “Too early.” 

“We’ll have to do something about your hair.” Lady said, playing with it. Macbeth closed his eyes again. “Cut it maybe.” 

“Mmm.” He hummed. 

The sound of an electric razor woke him right up. 

“ _ Lady!! _ ” He squawked. Lady laughed, holding the razor delicately, putting it on the bedside table. “I will get my hair cut!” Lady continued to laugh. “Oh my god.” 

“Maybe we could dye your temples gray. Make you look distinguished, maybe.” 

“That’s where I draw the line.” Macbeth laughed. 

“Oh, fine.” Lady said. “But you need to get in to wo ~ ork! They’re falling apart without you!!” 

“Fine!!” Macbeth sat up. “But they can wait a few minutes more, right?” 

Banquo didn't know who had sent him in to console Siward’s widow, but he understood her pain. Maud had died when Fleance was four, and while he never felt like he loved her in the way she deserved, they had been close friends.    
But looking at the body, covered by a sheet, Banquo felt a small chill down his spine. Siward, along with Banquo and Duff were the only people that knew Macbeth used knives. He’d gotten into a knife throwing competition with Macbeth after boasting that he could throw knives, and the two had been friends since. 

Macbeth had killed Siward to cover his tracks. 

What made Banquo any different?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spot the historical figures!!

The phone rang. Robert wanted to ignore it, but the ringing was insistent. He poked at his soup. It had gone cold. He checked the clock. Eight PM. Julia was asleep already? She’d locked herself in her room before dinner. Robert reminded himself to give her some soup. 

The phone rang again. Robert dragged himself to the phone. 

“Robert speaking.” He said dully. 

“ _ Robert?! _ ” Robert recognized the voice. It was impossible. It couldn’t possibly - “ _ Robert I’m not dead!! I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I scared you and you have every right to be mad but I’m alright!! I’m okay!! I’m sorry I had to do that but turns out there was a whole thing - someone’s after my job - Banquo - _ ” The caller broke down in tears. “ _ I’ve just - I’ve been waiting for a safe chance to call _ -” 

“Malcolm…” Robert breathed, tears pouring down his face. “Oh my god.” 

“ _ Are you mad at me? Cause that’s - that’s okay, I probably scared you badly… _ ” 

“No, no.” Robert sniffled. “I’m so happy you’re okay… I thought - I thought I’d lost you -” 

“ _ Oh god - Is Julia alright?? Please put her on the phone!! _ ” Malcolm said. “ _ You can’t tell anyone I’m alive, Banquo will - someone will - someone will  _ **_kill_ ** _ you. _ ” 

“I’ll get her, I promise, I won’t tell anyone I’m just-” The words tumbled out of his mouth. Robert heard Malcolm start to cry on the other end. “You’re alive… you’re alive…”

“ _ I’m sorry! _ ” He wailed. “ _ I didn't want to - _ ” 

“Sh… I know, I know.” Robert said. He sniffled. “I’m crying too, it’s okay. I’ll get Julia, hold on.” 

“ _ Mkay _ .” Robert put the phone down. 

“Julia?” 

“What?” She asked. 

“Someone’s on the phone for you!” Robert said, barely able to contain his smile. 

“Must be Fleance.” She emerged, eyes a bit red. “I’ll take it.” She took the phone. 

“Hello?” Her eyes went wide. “ _ Dad?! _ Oh my god!!” She started to cry, but the smile on her face was real, genuine. “I’m okay, I’m okay. Yeah, school’s fine. Where  _ are _ you? Okay. Dad, stop crying!! Dad, I’m okay! I’m okay!! Are you done crying now? Okay. We had to get your ugly car from the police station and I had to drive. It was fun. Your car is safe don’t worry.” A pause, as Julia wiped her face and started to giggle. 

“When will you be back?” She asked finally. “Oh. Okay. Come back soon, then. Daddy wants to talk to you. Love you too. Bye.” She handed the phone back. 

“ _ I have to go. _ ” Malcolm said. “ _ I’ve run out of quarters for the payphone… _ ” He giggled wetly. 

“It’s okay.” Robert said. “I love you.” 

“ _ I love you too. _ ” Malcolm said. “ _ I can’t stop crying, I’m sorry… _ ” 

“No, it’s okay.” Robert said. “You really need to stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for.” 

A rustle, and then - “ _ I’ve missed your voice. _ ” Soft, thick, like in the mornings. 

“I’ve missed yours.” Robert said. “I love you. Be safe.” 

“ _ You too _ .” Malcolm hung up. Robert listened to the dial tone for a bit, then started to cry. But this time, he was happy.

Harald wasn’t busy that night. He was just sitting, serving his Norse Rider friends their alcohol, eyeing up Tostig, who’d become one of the regulars, and planning how best to proposition him, seeing as he was free in three hours.

Then the Chief Commissioner came in. Harald nearly dropped the bottle he was holding. Tostig was immediately spooked away from the bar, returning to his table. Harald swore. There went his plans for the night. The Chief Commissioner (Mac-something? Macb…?) sat down. 

“What the  _ hell _ is this.” Harald asked. 

“I’d like a scotch.” Macbitch (Harald had settled on that) said. “On the rocks.” 

“You’re scaring away my clients. What. The hell. Is this.” 

“Can a man not just have a drink?” Macbitch asked. 

“Not here. Not if it’s you.” Harald said. “Get out, or I’ll throw you out.” 

“I’m not here to arrest you.” Macbitch said. “I’m here with a proposition.” 

“What the fuck could you want with me?” Harald asked. 

“Well, you’re the quickest way to Svein.” Macbitch said calmly. “I have money and a proposition for you both.” 

Money. That was something they were short on. Harald tapped the bottle against the counter. 

“What is it?” 

“A hit.” 

“We’re not hitmen, Chief Commissioner.” Harald said. He made sure Tostig was still in his booth. He was. Maybe tonight wasn’t lost. 

“It’s on a police officer.” Macbitch continued. “Banquo. And his son.” 

Harald swallowed, pressing the record button on the tape recorder taped to the bottom of the bar. “Repeat that, Chief Commissioner?” He said. 

“A hit on Banquo and his son.” Macbitch said calmly. “For 15,000 dollars.” 

Harald nearly dropped the bottle again. “ _ 15,000?!? _ ” He repeated, just for the tape recorder. 

“And you won’t have to worry about the police in your operations.” Macbitch finished. “Deal?” 

“I’ll have to talk to Svein.” Harald said. “Are - Are you  _ mad _ ?!” He asked. He noticed the dilated pupils. High. On  _ what? _ Brew? Coke? “Do you have a date?” 

“In a few days I’m having a party at Inverness. Around that time.” Macbitch said. “I’ll pay you when you bring me Banquo’s head.” 

Harald swallowed. Nodded. 

“Will you get out, now?” He asked. “I have patrons to deal with.” 

“Goodbye, then.” Macbitch swanned out and Harald clicked the pause button. Tostig went up to the bar. 

“The fuck was that about?” He asked. 

“He had a proposition for Svein.” Harald said. “Are you busy tonight?” 

“Nope. I’m free.” Tostig said with a flirtatious smile. 

All in all a good night, Harald mused, refilling Tostig’s glass. 

“I need more.” Macbeth said. The ginger was back in the same spot. 

“This dose will cost you.” The ginger said. “You know the rules.” 

Macbeth drew his gun. The ginger seemed unphased. “You won’t shoot me.” He said. “You’ll pay.” 

Macbeth reached in his pocket, handed the ginger about thirty dollars. He counted it, then smiled, tossing a bag at Macbeth. 

“Pleasure doing business with you.” The ginger smirked. “Have a nice day.” He waltzed off, humming to himself. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little bit suspicious?” 

“What?” Caithness said. 

“That Banquo of all people found the car.” Duff said. “He wasn’t even coming into work today.” 

“Mm.” Caithness hummed. “Weird.” 

“And he said he found it… behind some shipping containers?” Duff said. “Why was he walking by the docks? He can’t even swim!” 

“Even more of a fair point.” Caithness said. “Maybe Banquo had something to do with Malcolm’s…?” 

“That’s what I was thinking. Could you come help me figure this out?” Duff said. “There’s really no one else I would trust.” 

“Not even Robert?” Caithness teased. 

“Speaking of, I don’t think he’s taking it well…I think he’s still holding onto hope that Malcolm’s alive.” Duff said. 

“That’s slightly concerning.” 

“Slightly??” Duff asked. “I think it’s more than slightly.” 

“How about we focus on this, and then you can talk your boytoy to me.” Caithness said. “We’ll use my car.” 

“I’m inviting everyone to the Inverness.” Macbeth said. Lady was playing with his newly short hair. 

“That’s nice.” Lady said. “For what?” 

“To celebrate!” Macbeth said. “To talk more plans, among other things.” Lady twined one curl around her finger.

“We need to talk.” She said at last. “You’re… You’re high again.” 

“It gives me confidence, Lady.” Macbeth said. “I’m not abusing it.” 

“Confidence…” She sighed. “Macbeth, please be careful.” 

“I will!” He gave her a smile. “I love you.” 

“Love you too.” Lady said. “Now go get ready.” He got up, humming and rifling through his clothes. Lady shot a sideways glance to the pouch on his nightstand. 

_ Confidence _ . She thought.  _ Maybe it could be useful. _

“Can you see me?!” Duff called, leaning out of the car window. He heard a faint “No!” in response. 

“You sure?!” Duff asked, cold all over. Maybe it was the wind, or the knowledge that Banquo had forced Malcolm to jump to his death. He shuddered. 

“Can’t see  _ shit _ , Duff!!” Caithness yelled. “You were right.” 

Duff drove the car back around, popping the passenger side door open. 

“What now?” Caithness asked, swinging back into the car, shutting the door behind her. 

“Now we talk to Banquo.” Duff said.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> local man hallucinates to fuck, dead almost boyfriend shows up, everyone is generally miserable.

“Banquo!!” Banquo looked up from his tie. It was Duff. His car was parked across the street. Banquo could faintly see the outline of someone else in there. “Hey! Can we talk?” 

“Oh! Hello Duff!!” Banquo said. “Uh, sure?”

“That’s a poor mans tie, Banquo.” Duff said, taking the tie. “Let me.” He adjusted the tie, tightening it and then stepping back. “Now you look first class.” 

“Thanks.” Banquo said, stepping out to his car. 

“Where are you going?” Duff asked. 

“Oh, just to Macbeth’s party. You?” Banquo asked. Duff slung one arm over Banquo’s shoulders.

“Me and Caithness were walking by the docks.” Duff said casually. Banquo tensed. “And uh, we noticed that it would be  _ near impossible _ to see a car from where you said it was.” 

“Fleance??” Banquo called. “Hurry!” 

“So Banquo…” Duff asked, grip tightening. “What happened to Malcolm?” 

Just the name brought the image of Malcolm sobbing in the front seat of his own car, hands over his face, shoulders shaking violently with the sheer force of his terror and grief. 

“I don’t know.” Banquo lied. 

“Banquo.” Duff said. “You do. Please tell me, for his sake, and his family’s. They deserve to know.” 

“I  _ don’t know _ .” Banquo said, yanking himself free of Duff. “Leave me alone, Duff.” 

“Banquo.” Duff said. “Do the right thing. Do it for Fleance’s future. If you confess now, you don’t have to be remembered as a murderer.” 

“I didn't kill Malcolm!” Banquo insisted. 

“Then what  _ happened _ , Banquo?” Duff demanded, voice rising to an almost shrill volume. “What happened on the docks?” 

“Duff, shut  _ up _ .” Banquo said. “I’ll -” He sighed. Macbeth was going to kill him. “I’ll meet you by Bertha Birnam at midnight. Then I’ll tell you everything.” 

“Deal.” Duff said. “Thanks for doing the right thing. I’ll um… I’ll try to get you a lighter sentence.”    
“Thanks.” 

Fleance came out immediately after. 

“Hello Fleance.” Duff said. 

“Hi Duff.” Fleance said pleasantly. “Why do your shoes sound weird?” 

“Fleance.” Banquo reprimanded. Duff’s face flushed and his gaze quickly dropped to the oversized shoes he kept wearing. 

“They’re a bit old.” He said at last. “Have fun at the party.” 

“You’re not coming?” Fleance asked. 

“Nope.” Duff said. “I’m going home to Fife tomorrow.” 

“Tell the missus hello.” Banquo said. 

“I will. See you later.” Duff gave an awkward salute and ventured back to his car. 

“What was that about?” Fleance asked. Banquo started the car. 

“Duff just wanted to discuss some things.” He said at last.

“This is the  _ worst _ way to spend the night.” Harald groaned, checking the route. “I  _ hate _ doing hits.” 

Tora chuckled, putting her helmet on. “You’re just a pussy.” She said. 

“I’m sorry I made  _ plans _ .” Harald said. Tostig would probably be wondering where he was. “Let’s just speed this up.” 

“Alright.” Tora said. “You sure Svein approved of this?” 

“Oh he was  _ very _ pleased.” Harald said. “Trust me.” He put his helmet on. “The payoff is worth it.” 

“Could you move patrol cars from section three, West Side?” Macbeth asked. 

“Sure.” The patrol head, a woman named Rois, said. “Any reason? Where should they go?” 

“Well, I promised the people I’d patrol the poorer parts of town.” Macbeth said. “You’re from East Side, you’d understand.” 

Rois beamed. “Of course.” She said, putting her headset on. “Just keep your eye on your phone, kay? Just in case some rich douche calls. I’d need your permission to change the patrols.” 

“Of course.” Macbeth said. “Have a lovely evening.” 

“You too, Chief!” 

Macbeth headed out. 

“Macbeth!” Lennox said. “The mayor called.” 

“Oh?” Macbeth said. Lennox seemed shorter than usual. Macbeth then noticed Lennox was dressed for the party, and that seemed to mean his often-present platforms were gone too.

“He wants to know if you’re free to talk about the multiple police deaths.” Lennox said. “Tonight. At your party.” 

Macbeth stared incredulously. 

“Lucky you, I came up with some notes.” Lennox said, handing them over. Macbeth looked them over.

“These are really detailed.” Macbeth said. “Thanks. Lennox, what would I do without you?” 

“Die, probably.” Lennox joked.

“Most likely.” Macbeth said. “Who knows. Is Ross coming to the party?” 

“No, he and Angus are taking a night in.” Lennox said. “Who are you putting in charge of SWAT?” 

“Oh, Seyton.” Macbeth said. “He’s trustworthy.” 

“I suppose.” Lennox mumbled. “I don’t like him.” 

“Auley seems to.” Macbeth said. “You look nice.”    
“Oh!” Lennox smiled, twirling some of his red hair around his finger. “Thank you.” 

“You want to come with me to the party?” Macbeth asked. Lennox nodded. 

“Thanks, Macbeth.” 

“Dad, this isn’t the way to the Inverness.” Fleance said, looking out the window. 

“Exactly.” Banquo said. “I’m taking you to the airport. You’ll go to Capitol - write this down.” Fleance pulled out a notepad. “Go to Capitol, to the Dolphin nightclub on Tannery street. A family friend of mine, Bodhild, owns the club. She’s renting out the apartment to someone, and if you tell her I sent you, she’ll let you up. You’ll have to share the apartment for a bit, but I’ll come and see you.” 

“Alright?” Fleance said. “But why?” 

“It’s for your own safety.” Banquo said. Fleance suddenly heard the roar of another engine. 

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” Fleance mumbled. 

“Language.” Banquo said. 

And then a gunshot rang out. Fleance yelped, and Banquo pressed down on the gas. 

“Who’s behind us?” Banquo asked. Fleance peeked behind his seat. 

“Motorcycles?” He said curiously. “One of the riders has horns on his helmet.” 

“Shit!” Banquo swore. “Norse Riders. Fleance, get back.” Fleance flinched back in his seat. “Guess we’re going to Inverness after all.” 

“Has anyone seen Banquo?” Caithness asked. “Isn’t he coming?” 

“Maybe he’s late.” Lennox shrugged. 

“How unfortunate.” Seyton muttered. Auley shifted uncomfortably. 

“I hope he’s alright.” Menteith worried. 

“Yeah.” Macbeth said. “Me too.”

The  _ bang _ made Fleance scream, before covering his mouth. “Sorry.” He said. 

“No, no, it’s fine.” Banquo said. “Breathe, Fleance. Is it the car tire?” 

The sparks gave them both the answer. 

“It’s the car tire.” Both of them said. A motorcycle revved and Banquo pressed harder on the gas. 

“Are there  _ no cops _ ?!” Fleance asked. “Where are the -”  _ Bang! _ Another tire. Fleance screamed again. 

“That’s odd, usually there’s cars on this road.” Banquo said. “Unless…” His stomach dropped. The Chief Commissioner could control patrols. 

“Change of plans again, we’re going to Fife.” Banquo said. “Or, well, we’ll try.” 

“Okay, okay.” Fleance said. “... Am I going to die?” 

“No. Absolutely not.” Banquo said. “I won’t allow it.” 

His heart hurt. Macbeth wanted him dead too. 

Or no, Fleance. 

But Banquo wouldn't allow Fleance to die. He grabbed the wheel tighter. 

_ Maud if you are watching from above… protect our son _ . 

“Hit the  _ fucking _ car!” Harald yelled. “Tora! Can you fucking aim?!” 

“Hard when it’s a fucking car, Harald!!” She called back. “I’m called to deal with drive-bys!”

“Then -” Harald made a gesture. “ _ Drive by! _ ” 

“It’s harder than you think!!” Tora said, putting her visor down and revving her motorcycle. 

“I am  _ so  _ late for my date.” Harald mumbled. 

Lennox was starting to get worried. It had been almost an hour and Banquo hadn’t shown. He’d called the house, but no one picked up. Caithness said he’d been ready to leave when she and Duff stopped by. 

Duff hadn’t come either, odd. Maybe he’d gone home to Fife. 

Seyton was leering at him from across the room, so Lennox went back to playing with the roulette wheel. 

“Do you play?” The receptionist - what was his name? Lennox could’ve sworn it started with a B - asked. 

“I’m not in the habit of gambling.” Lennox said, giving the wheel a hard spin. “Yourself?” 

“Not particularly one for it myself.” The receptionist said. “But still, I’m obligated to make the occasional gamble in the workplace. Especially when it comes to how I’m perceived.” He gave Lennox a knowing grin. Lennox looked back to the roulette wheel. He felt uncomfortable, known, itchy, and seen. He should’ve brought his platforms. 

“Excuse me.” He said, and headed over to Macbeth. 

“That was the fuel tank!” Fleance yelled. One of the Riders had been catching up with the car, firing at will. The others were closing in. “Dad!” 

“I know, Fleance.” Banquo said. “I think I could lose them.” He swerved, crashing into the Norse Rider invading their personal space. They let out a yowl, forced to abandon the motorcycle. 

“TORA!” Fleance heard. 

“They’ve stopped for now.” Banquo said. “Is your seatbelt unbuckled.” Fleance looked guiltily down. “No, it’s alright.” They’d reached the bridge. “Open the door.” 

“ _ What?! _ ” Fleance asked shrilly, but obeyed, clinging to the dash. 

“Fleance.” Banquo said. “I love you.”    
“Wait - Dad  _ no! _ ” Fleance yelped. Banquo leaned back and kicked Fleance out of the car, into the water. Fleance screamed like when he was born, when Maud had held him in her arms as the trains roared by. Banquo wiped his face. Maud had promised she’d protect Fleance when he couldn’t. She’d always kept her promises. The roar of the motorcycles were catching up, and Banquo pushed forward. 

The constant rain on the town had changed into a rain of bullets. 

“Maud.” Banquo said as the car stopped. “Protect him.” He closes his eyes, a tear down his face.

_ And forgive me for loving Macbeth. For trusting him. For making you protect him _ . __

“Sir.” Macbeth turned. It was Jack. “Someone’s here to see you.” 

Macbeth went to the door. It was the bartender from the Norse Rider bar. 

“You’re one fucked up dude.” He said, handing a bloody bag to Macbeth. “The boy got away, but here’s Banquo’s head.” 

Macbeth handed over the money in a daze. “Fleance -” 

“He wasn’t in the car.” The man hopped back on his bike. “You made me late for an appointment.” Macbeth stuffed the head in Jack’s desk. He’d throw it out later. His hands were shaking. A fix. He needed a fix. He ran to the bathroom, laid out some powder and quickly snorted it. 

He looked in the mirror, watching several noses and mouths form on his face. A steady stream of blood ran from his nose. He wiped it away. He’d have to ask that ginger kid for needles next time if he wanted to keep his nose. 

“Macbeth?” It was Lady. “Can we start?” 

“Oh, yes.” Macbeth said. He wiped his face with his sleeve. “I’m coming.” 

He followed Lady out to the table, taking a glass of champagne. 

“I’m sorry Banquo couldn’t make it.” Macbeth said, taking a small sip. “But I’m glad all of you could. Each and every one of you are important to this department. Cheers to you all.” 

Everyone lifted their own glass and drank.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Lennox asked. “I saved you a seat.” 

“The table’s full.” Macbeth said. One figure wasn’t clear enough. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that wine on top of everything

And that’s when Banquo’s head spun 360 degrees like an owl. Macbeth screamed.

“Macbeth?” 

“Chief Commissioner?”

“Are you alright?!” 

“Get  _ away _ from me!” Macbeth yelled. Banquo stood up from his seat and oh Macbeth wished he hadn’t. There was blood. So much blood. 

“You.” Banquo rasped. “You had me killed.” 

“ _ No! _ ” Macbeth yelled. “I didn't - I didn't kill you!” 

“Why?” Banquo asked, crawling over the table. “I loved you.” 

“ **_No!_ ** ” Macbeth yelled. “You’re dead, you’re dead. Get away from me!” 

“I will see you soon.” Banquo hissed. “One day, Macbeth, we’ll be together in hell.” He drew closer. “I will drag you there myself.” 

And he was gone, just like that.

“Are you - Are you alright?!” Lennox asked, alarmed. 

“Macbeth!” It was the mayor. Lady went into damage control immediately. 

“It’s nothing wrong!” She said. “Macbeth, come.” She led him into the bathroom, and grabbed his face. 

“You’re  _ high again!! _ ” Lady hissed. “Oh god. Macbeth! The mayor! You’re high in front of the mayor!” 

“I - I needed the -” Lady cut him off. 

“Everyone’s heading home.” Lady said. “You stay here and try not to snort anything else.” She left the bathroom. 

And Macbeth decided. 

He was going to see Hecate.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *honks the horn to scare my coworkers at 11 pm*

“Well, Cinderella?” 

Duff blinked blearily, checking Robert’s clock. 11:45. 

“Thanks again for letting me stay.” Duff said. “I know it’s hard for you, since -”    
“Sh…” Robert said, running his hand through Duff’s hair. “I’m happy you’re here. I’ve missed you.” 

“But how are you dealing with -” 

“Duff.” Robert murmured. “Stay.” His lips brushed Duff’s neck. “A little longer. The bed…” His voice cut off. “It is cold…all alone…”

Duff took one of Robert’s hands, putting it to his lips. He felt cold metal. His wedding ring. 

“I have to go, Rob.” He said. He sat up. “I have the meeting. I’ll be able to find out what happened.” 

The phone rang. 

“What  _ now _ .” Robert moaned. “Duff…phone…” 

Duff put the phone to his ear. 

“H’llo?” Duff groaned. 

“ _ It’s Caithness. _ ” Duff rubbed his eyes. 

“Sup.” 

“ _ Banquo’s dead and Fleance is missing _ .” Duff sat straight up. 

“WHAT?!” He said. Robert hushed him. “Oh shit - I’ll be over as soon as I can.” He hung up.

“Sorry Rob.” He said. “I’ll have to see you later.” 

“This is a right mess.” Hazel said, poking at the bloody chair. “Nasty shit. His head was  _ cut off! _ ” 

“If I was to cut off someone’s head I’d use a hacksaw.” Galloway remarked. 

“Yeah, but then it’d be a huge mess.” Lothian added. “And the stump would be jagged and gross.” 

“True.” Galloway said mournfully. “What’s a good way to cut off someone’s head?” 

“Axe.” Gowrie suggested. 

“Do we look like Jack Torrence, here?” Hazel snapped. “A professional wouldn't use an axe. Meat cleaver is the way to go.” 

“But an axe will give a cleaner cut.” Gowrie argued. “You’d need a lot of force with a meat cleaver.” 

Caithness went back to examining the body, as always, slightly creeped out by her coworkers.

“If you’re looking for a clean cut you could use a wire.” 

“Again, a lot of force.” 

“Sword?” 

“If you hold it the right way.” 

“Are we speculating on what cut off Banquo’s head?” Menteith asked, dropping her bag by the door.. 

“No.” The other four said. 

“It was a sword.” Hazel said. 

“A  _ long  _ sword.” Galloway said. “Very sharp.” 

“More evidence to suggest it’s Svein, then.” Menteith said. “Although the excessive force leads me to believe… Harald?” 

“Norse Rider.” Caithness said. “These bullets…They’re the bullets from the guns the Norse Riders use.” 

“But why attack Banquo?” Galloway said.

“Same reason they shanked that other guy.” Hazel said, the smile on her face made even more gruesome by her scars. “Cause he was involved with the drug heist.” 

“Hi, sorry I’m late.” Duff finally arrived. “It took me a while to wake up.” He yawned. “What’s the body lik- OH.” He looked slightly nauseated. “That’s - He’s been decapitated.” 

“Yeah.” Menteith said. “Did Caith not tell you?” 

“It’s what, one am?” Duff yawned. “What do we have.” 

“Norse Riders. Again.” Caithness said. “Fleance is missing, presumed dead.” 

“Just like Siward.” Duff said. 

“So what do both Siward and Banquo have in common.” Menteith asked. 

“They both have a son about the same age.” Duff said. 

“I mean, yes, but, anything else?” Menteith said with a sigh. 

“Both were on the Narco raid.” Caithness answered. “He’s a bit slow, Minty.” 

“Hey!” Duff snapped. Then his face went pale. “Are you saying…?” 

“They might be targeting people on the raid.” Caithness said. “Which means…” 

“I’m on the hit list. Auley, Angus, Seyton, and Macbeth are on the list.” Duff said. “They’re going to kill the Chief Commissioner.” 

At that moment the car horn honked, loudly. Duff jumped, Caithness let out a sharp squeal, and Menteith swore. 

“Oops.” Gowrie said nonchalantly, one hand on the wheel. “Hand slipped.”

“What the  _ fuck _ .” Menteith growled. Lothian snorted loudly. 

“You should’ve seen your faces.” Galloway sang. 

“Get out.” Caithness sighed. “You. All four of you. Out.” 

“I’m going to  _ bed _ .” Hazel said. “Ri-Ri, you’re driving.” 

Gowrie sighed, and the four left. 

“We’ll report to Macbeth tomorrow.” Menteith said. “It is  _ much _ too early to be dealing with this shit. Caith?”

“Could I crash on your couch tonight?” Duff asked.    
“Uh.” Menteith looked to Caithness. “Why?” 

“Minty, baby, I’ll talk to him.” Caithness said. “Best friend things. Get the car started.” 

Menteith left. 

“Talk to me, bigfoot.” Caithness said. “Why can’t you go home to loverboy’s.”    
“I think I should end things with Robert.” Duff said. 

“Oh?” 

“I feel like he’s using me to get over Malcolm.” Duff said. “And I… I want him to move on. We both miss Malcolm, but…” 

“But this isn’t healthy.” Caithness finished. “I understand. And you can crash at mine.” 

“I’m actually going to go home to Fife.” Duff said. 

“If you crash the car, it’s not my fault.” Caithness said. “Go home, Bigfoot.”

“Caith!” 

“Yeah?” 

“I just…” Duff frowned, biting his nail. “Hello, Lennox. I just think it’s suspicious is all. Siward of all people, and then Banquo?” He shrugged. “They both have a connection to Macbeth and the murder of Duncan and Malcolm. Maybe…” He ripped it off grimacing at the blood. 

“We’ll talk more later.” Caithness said. “You’ll have all your thoughts together in the morning.” 

“You!” The ginger was sitting on the bench, this time accompanied by Silvestra. “And you.” 

“Hello, Macbeth.” Silvestra said. The ginger waved. 

“I want to talk to Hecate.” Macbeth said. “Does he have any more predictions for me?” 

The ginger snorted, losing his composure for a bit.

“Hecate has been expecting you.” Silvestra said. “Although, I’d need you to put this on.” She tied a bandana around Macbeth’s face. “And some earbuds.” 

“Safety precautions.” The ginger piped up. “Hecate’s orders.” Right before the earbuds were popped in.

Macbeth wandered a bit, guided by Silvestra, on the streets, on the tracks, until approaching a staircase. His hand was guided to the railing and he went down the stairs. Down, down, down. He gripped the railing tightly. The earbuds were popped out once he reached the bottom of the staircase. 

“Welcome.” A soft voice said. It was rich, like fine wine, dripping into Macbeth’s ears. “We’ve been expecting you.” 

It was not the voice Macbeth had expected. He’d expected something deep and masculine, weathered with age and drugs. This voice wasn’t that. 

“Hecate.” He said. An airy laugh permeated the air. 

“Macbeth.” Hecate responded. Macbeth could feel the heat from another body next to him. “Walk with me.” 

He could hear the click of -  _ heels? _ Macbeth was confused, but he felt Hecate’s hand on one of his shoulders. He was blind, unable to see what Hecate looked like. They stopped. 

“You probably need a fix, yes?” Hecate asked. “Fabi says you were shaking like a leaf at the station.” 

_ Fabi?  _ Macbeth wondered.  _ The ginger _ . 

“I need assurance.” 

“For what?” Hecate asked, faux curious. 

“That I will stay Chief Commissioner.” Macbeth said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“I’m aware, Macbeth.” Hecate chuckled. “I’m blonde, not stupid.” 

“So?” 

“You should watch out for Duff.” Hecate said. “He has his suspicions, and was going to meet with Banquo for information about Malcolm.” 

“Duff is my friend.” Macbeth said. 

“If he was your friend, he wouldn't suspect you.” Hecate hummed. “You did good with Siward and Banquo. Now just get rid of Duff.” 

Macbeth swallowed. He touched the blindfold. 

“Anything else?” 

“No man born of a woman will be able to hurt you.” Hecate said. “And until Bertha Birnam comes to Inverness, you’ll be Chief Commissioner.” 

“May I ask -” 

“You probably want to know how I know things.” Hecate said. “You have a friend in Police HQ, but you have to promise not to tell.” 

“Alright.” Macbeth agreed. 

“You want your fix?” Hecate asked. Macbeth was led into another room, settled into a chair. The blindfold was removed. 

Someone sat next to Macbeth. Pale skin, red hair, light eyes barely hidden under almost-closed eyelids. 

“Lennox?” Macbeth whispered. The blindfold went back on. 

“We’ve got your back, Macbeth.” Hecate said. “Silvestra? The drugs.” A needle entered Macbeth’s arm. 

Lennox woke up. 

It took him a while to wake up after a high, especially a high in the chair. It was always freshest in the chair. He stretched luxuriously, then looked over at Macbeth. 

Normally he would’ve nearly fallen out of his chair, but he was too lethargic to do anything but think  _ oh, this is going to be good _ , and look back at the ceiling. 

“Can you see the stars?” He asked once he heard Macbeth stirring.

“What?” Macbeth groaned.

“I can see the stars from down here.” Lennox said. “I’ve always wondered if others could see them too.” 

Macbeth said nothing, and Lennox tilted his head back a bit more, watching the stars glisten and blink. 

“Alright you two.” It was Silvestra. “Blindfolds on, you’re going home.” Macbeth fumbled a bit for his, but Lennox tied his own. A safety precaution, he got it. It still made him feel awkward and off balance. Silvestra guided them both up the stairs and into a car. It roared to life, Macbeth letting out a squawk of fear. Lennox almost snorted, but he didn't. 

The car stopped, dropping them both off, without blindfolds, near the police station. 

“You know when a man feels most at peace?” Lennox asked. 

Macbeth was silent, most likely dealing with his first chair-high. 

“When he steps into the air after a dose.” Lennox said. Then another thought occurred to him. “Or when the adrenaline hits -” 

“You mean right now, right?” Macbeth asked.

“Yes.” Lennox said, then stopped. “But also cocky… confident.” 

“What are you-” Lennox leaned in and kissed Macbeth right on the lips. 

They broke apart. 

“See you at work, Macbeth.” Lennox said, skipping off. He had no time to think  _ what have I done _ , all he could think of was:  _ I knew it!!! It was good!! It’s a good day _ !

“Hey, Lennox?” Duff called. Lennox smiled, even wider somehow. 

“Hi Duff, what’s up?” He asked. Duff pulled him aside. 

“I came from Fife.” He said. “I’ve spent all night thinking about things -” 

“What things?” Lennox asked, stupid grin still on his face. 

“Macbeth.” The grin slid off of Lennox’s face. 

“Uh.” He eyed the door. “We should take this somewhere else.” 

They went back outside. 

“Tell me everything.” Lennox said. 

“It’s just highly suspicious, is all.” Duff started, playing with the throwing knife Caithness had lent him from Forensics. “I know exactly two people who can throw knives. It’s not something you pick up easily.”

“It’s just throwing a knife, right?” Lennox asked, confused. “How hard could it be?” 

“It would be easier if it was a balanced knife.” Duff said, spinning the knife. “This one isn’t. This one is the one that killed Duncan.” He showed it. “Nice grip, right?” 

“Mm.” Lennox hummed, looking it over. 

“Try to throw it.” Duff said. “Hard.” 

Lennox tried. It clattered to the ground. 

“Exactly.” Duff said, scooping it up. “Only two people I know play with knives.” 

“So…?” Lennox asked. Duff took a moment to look Lennox over. 

“Lennox, are you  _ high? _ ” Duff asked. Lennox shook his head. 

“Just the light.” Lennox said. “Continue?” 

“Siward uses balanced knives.” Duff continued. “We were in Narco together. He got into a throwing knife competition with Macbeth, once, and he and Macbeth were checking out each other’s knives.” Duff allowed himself a pause, thinking back to that day. Siward had dropped Macbeth’s knife on his foot. “Siward dropped Macbeth’s knife. It hurt his foot. His knives aren’t balanced. It takes an expert knife thrower to throw one of these.” 

“And Macbeth is?” 

“He was in a circus.” Duff said. “It was really cool. But my point still stands. Macbeth uses uneven knives, Duncan was killed with an uneven knife.” 

“Flimsy connection at best.” Lennox scoffed. “You have more proof?” 

“Well.” Duff blinked, nodded. “Yeah. Why’d Macbeth kill the bodyguards?” 

“I…” Lennox paused. He swore. “I don’t know.” 

“To hide his guilt.” Duff said. “He killed Duncan. Could the guards throw knives?” 

“I did a background check… no…” Lennox mused, face going even paler. “No one throws knives… but Macbeth and Siward.” 

“Exactly.” Duff hissed. “You have to promise not to tell  _ anybody _ . Especially not Seyton.” Lennox nodded. 

“I can get in contact with someone from Capitol.” Lennox said. “You just go home. I’ll let you know when they will arrive.” Duff nodded. 

“Thank you, Lennox.” Duff said gratefully. He headed back to work. 

A new poster caught his eye. A woman’s hand holding a cigarette. 

_ MS Glamis seeks galley hand _ . Was written below the hand.

Duff observed the long fingers, the delicate hand, unscarred, uncalloused. He looked at his own, calloused, a criss-cross scar across his left palm. Long. Delicate. 

He swallowed, and went back to his car, an uncomfortable lump in his throat. 

“Hello Ross.” 

“Chief Commissioner!” Ross yelped. “Hi. What’s -” 

“I’m here to see Lennox.” Macbeth said. He’d been watching when Duff and Lennox talked. And he needed to  _ know _ . How much  _ did _ Duff know? About everything?? If it wasn’t much - If he didn't know about Duncan maybe - maybe Macbeth didn't have to kill his oldest friend. 

God, was he being sentimental already? 

“Macbeth?” Lennox asked, worried. “You okay?” 

“Can we talk?” Macbeth breezed into Lennox’s office. “Shut the door.” Lennox listened and obeyed, going back to his desk. Macbeth picked up an odd-looking ashtray. 

“What is this thing?” He asked, playing with a pin on it. 

“ _ Don’t! _ ” Lennox said. 

Macbeth put the ashtray down. 

“It’s a model 24 Steilhand grenade.” Lennox continued. “I don’t know if it’s active or not.” 

Macbeth gingerly pushed it away from him. “Where did you  _ get  _ that?” 

“My grandfather. It was thrown at him in the trench, only to find out it wasn’t even active.” Lennox laughed. “Lucky him.” 

“Yeah.” Macbeth said. “So what did Duff want to talk to you about?” 

Lennox hissed, eyes going to the grenade on his desk. 

“He…He knows.” He said. “About Duncan. It was really clever of him -” 

Macbeth groaned.

“Hey -” Lennox said. “It’s not that bad!” 

“I’m going to have to get rid of him.” Macbeth said. “Of Duff. He’s my oldest friend.” 

“Well. Before that, the Norse Riders.” Lennox said. “You should really get rid of them.” 

“You’re right.” Macbeth said. He couldn’t have them spilling the beans on the hit on Banquo. “I should. Thank you Lennox.” 

“You’re welcome.” Lennox said.

“There’s something else.” Macbeth said, drawing himself up. “You were right.” 

“About...what?” Lennox asked. 

“The dose. Making you confident. Cocky.” Macbeth said, putting himself in front of Lennox. “But also at peace.” 

This time it was his turn to kiss without warning. Lennox’s turn to blink in shock, to gasp once Macbeth pulled away.

“M - Macbeth -” He said, a nervous smile on his face. “What about Lady -” 

“She doesn’t need to know everything.” Macbeth said, easing Lennox over his desk. “Does your partner know everything about you?” 

“I’m single.” Lennox said. “So no.” He smiled, and leaned upwards to meet Macbeth. 

Ross turned up the volume on his headphones and continued playing the radio. This would be fun to tell Angus later. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hot lennox rights

“Hey.” Duff opened one eye, arms around Ewan and Emily in the hammock. Meredith was there, in a loose floral dress. The sun made her glow golden. 

“Hey.” Duff said quietly. “They’re sleeping.” 

“I will never understand how you do it.” Meredith sat down next to the hammock. “You’ve always had a way with kids.” 

“Genetics.” Duff joked with a weak laugh. Meredith sighed. “Sorry.” 

“No, it’s alright.” Meredith said with a smile. “You know, I met a lovely girl at the farmers market yesterday.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, an absolute goddess, in my opinion.” Meredith said. “You’d like her. She’s sweet. Good with kids.” She had a wistful smile on her face and Duff made a mental note to invite this girl to the pre-birthday. 

“Hey, Mer?” 

“Mm?” 

“I’ve missed you.” Duff said, shifting so he could touch Meredith on the nose. 

“I’ve missed you too.” Meredith said. “It’s been a busy week.” 

“Yeah.” Duff said. “Join us in the hammock?” 

“Duff - I won’t  _ fit! _ ” Meredith giggled. Duff shifted Ewan onto one side, making room for Meredith. She climbed in next to him, resting on one shoulder. 

The breeze pushed the hammock gently, and Duff allowed himself a moment of peace.

  
  


Harald drummed his fingers on the bar, only faintly listening to the pulsing music. His other hand was occupied, playing with Tostig’s hair. 

“Pretty little man.” Harald teased. 

“What’s the party about?” Tostig asked, sipping his vodka. “This bar is awfully crowded.” 

“Just me and some friends.” Harald said. “We scored a sweet deal, and now everyone’s getting drunk.” 

“You?” Tostig asked. “Are you going to get drunk?” 

“Ha. Svein would have my head.” Harald said. “I’ve got business tomorrow.” 

“The kids?” 

“Tora said I’m keeping them home tonight. They can’t be here for the party.” Harald said. “You like them.” 

“I hate all children but I’ll play nice.” Harald laughed. Tostig sipped his drink. A shrill wail cut through the music and Tostig groaned. 

“Did someone  _ seriously  _ bring a baby?” He asked. Harald sighed. 

“Tostig, Tostig, that’s a literal baby.” He said. “You can’t just leave one of those at home.” 

“Who’s baby is that?” 

Harald shrugged. “Pretty sure I’m the godfather, though. I was drunk when it was born.” 

Tostig snorted. “When’s Svein going to show?” 

“Soon, Tostig. Keep your pants on.” Harald said. He picked something up. A low roar. 

“Tostig.” 

“Mh?” 

“Do you hear something?” 

“No.” Tostig said. “Is that a gun in your pocket or is my presence amusing?” 

Harald laughed and pulled Tostig in for a kiss. 

“It’s raining out.” Auley said. “I wanna go home.” 

“Shut up.” Seyton snarled. “You have the guns?” 

“I really don’t think -” Angus started. Seyton hissed and Angus flinched back. 

“Ready?” He asked. Auley nodded, and Angus followed suit, hoisting the gun. “Remember men, for Banquo.” 

“For Banquo.” Angus whispered. 

“For Banquo.” Auley agreed, voice firm. 

“Fire.” Seyton smiled. And he let loose. 

The guns came straight from Capitol. They were a thing of beauty, sleek grey cannons, firing bullets, and vibrating in his hands. Oh, they were beautiful, amazing, things. If Seyton could love anything it would be these things. He watched the bullets tear down the club, mow down the people inside.

And everything was still. 

“We got em, boys.” Seyton said. “Angus, go check for survivors.” 

“Seyton.” Auley started. 

“You can go with him if you want.” Seyton gestured. The two hopped out of the van. Seyton watched Angus and Auley poke among the body, looking like polar opposites of each other. Angus was blonde, where Auley was dark haired. Angus was pale, where Auley looked like a polished block of mahogany. 

Lennox was pale too, paler than Angus, hair luscious and red. 

If Seyton could love a man, maybe it would be Lennox. He just looked so good when he was scared, he  _ smelled _ so good when he was scared. 

He was brought out of his musings by Auley and Angus returning, a bundle in Angus’ arms.

“What is that.” Seyton asked. Angus was mumbling something Seyton couldn’t make out. 

“A baby.” Auley said weakly. “That’s a baby.” 

“What is Angus saying?” Seyton demanded. 

Angus looked up with soulful puppy-dog eyes. 

“Last rights.” He said. “We killed her.” 

There was so much blood.    
Harald had ducked behind the bar when the first shots were fired, but the bullets passed through the flimsy wood. It was a miracle he was still alive.

Tostig was dead. Tora was dead. Why was he the only one to survive?

He heard a motorcycle’s roar. Deep and baritone. An old bike, with one squeaky wheel.

Svein had finally arrived. 

Harald took one hand off his suit jacket, palm sticky and red. His breath hitched. Fuck.

“Harald.” It was Svein. His hand went to the red spot on his jacket… then to his stomach… Harald tried to focus. 

“Hi.” He rasped. “I didn't get drunk.” 

“I’m taking you to a hospital.” Svein said. He was older, and stronger than Harald, but Harald was tall and he couldn’t easily be dragged. He yelped in pain and Svein set him back down. 

“Who did this.” A light tap on his cheek. Harald didn't realize he was drifting off. “Harald. Who did this.” 

“Cops.” Harald managed. His vision was darkening. “Large guns.” 

“Harald -” He blinked. Svein shook him gently. “Harald, stay awake.” 

“Sorry boss.” Harald said weakly, and slipped into oblivion.

“It’s done.” Macbeth looked up from his speech. Seyton sat there. When did he get there? “The Norse Riders are dead.” 

“And they took it well?” Macbeth asked. “Angus and Auley, I mean?” 

“Angus didn't.” Seyton said. “He went home for the night.” 

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” Macbeth said. “Don’t worry about him yet.” 

“Angus?” Ross yawned, feeling a sudden shift in the bed. “You’re home late. Is something -”

Angus let out a sob. Ross sat up instantly, putting on his glasses and turning on the light. 

“Angus? Are you alright?” Ross asked. Angus had his head in his hands, wiping his face. He was shaking. “Hey…” 

“Am I a bad person?” Angus asked. Ross scooted over to Angus, unzipping his drenched hoodie. 

“Why would you think that?” Ross asked, throwing the hoodie to the side. “Angus, you’re not a bad person.” 

“I just…” Angus sobbed loudly. Ross kissed his damp hair. 

“We should get you toweled off.” Ross said. “Hold on.” He went to the apartment bathroom and recovered the one dry towel. His was wet. 

He slowly and gently toweled Angus’ hair, and boosted him up off the bed. 

“Pajamas.” He said. “Come to bed.” Angus quickly changed and hopped into bed, burying his face in Ross’ chest. 

“I’m a bad person.” Angus moaned. “I’m a  _ horrible _ person…” 

“Shhh, love, no…” Ross said. “You’re no such thing. Tell me what’s wrong.” 

But Angus refused to answer, and continued to cry. 

Lady laid awake, checking the clock. 

06:04 AM. Macbeth was asleep beside her. 

She got up, feet padding over the carpet, the scribbles, undecipherable to all else, but she could pick out the word. She’d made the carpets,

_ Lulach _

She fumbled through Macbeth’s things, finding the packet, opening it up, and examining the white powder. Why had Macbeth stopped taking it? 

Maybe she needed the confidence. 

He could do without it, anyways. It didn't matter in the long run. 

“Jack?” She called when she came downstairs. “Where are our regulars?” 

“At the Obelisk, ma’am.” Jack said with a yawn. “I’m about to turn in for the night…” 

“It’s six AM, Jack…” Lady said. “Your shift ended at three…” 

“The new boy was a bit…” A crash and the new boy tripped over someone’s foot. “Yeah.” Jack laughed. “I think he’s got the hang of it now.” 

“I’ll talk to him.” Lady said. She ventured over to the new boy, picking up his tray, Jack following behind. “You alright?” 

“Yeah, sorry!” The boy said. The suit was too small on him. He was tall and lanky and dark-skinned, occasionally having a paler spot here and there. One on his hands, one on his face, one on his neck… Lady helped him to his feet. He stumbled. 

“Thanks.” He said, before looking her in the face. “M - Ma’am!” 

“What’s your name?”    
“O - Osbjorn, but I prefer Os, Ma’am.” He said. “I’m sorry I -” 

“Don’t worry.” Lady said. “I won’t fire you, you’re… Siward’s boy, yes?” Os averted his gaze and nodded. 

“Your father was a friend of my boyfriend’s. You and your mother need the extra money.” Lady said. “Try to get shoes that fit next time, alright?” 

Os nodded, face flushed. 

“Jack, go home.” Lady said. “Sleep well.” She went back upstairs. 

Macbeth was right. 

She now had the confidence to simper to a dead man’s son, when she’d laid with his murderer. 

She did like the confidence.

“You  _ know _ , Bonus.” Hecate said once Bonus arrived. Fabian was back, pouring Hecate a glass of dark red wine. “I am almost disappointed.” 

“Why?” Bonus asked. 

“I wanted to take down the Norse Riders.” Hecate said. “I suppose it’s  _ fine _ cause I did it by  _ proxy _ but…” She sighed. “I’m glad they’re gone though.” 

She stretched, closing her eyes. Bonus shot a look at Fabian, who blinked at him curiously, with large, innocent, green eyes. He averted his gaze, returning the wine to a cooler. 

“Don’t look at Fabi’s ass, Bonus.” Hecate said, eyes still closed, voice amused. “He’s too young for you.”

“I was doing no such thing.” Bonus said, quickly averting his gaze to his own glass of wine. 

“How are things at Inverness?” Hecate asked. 

“Well. The Obelisk is taking all of the customers.” Bonus sighed. “It’s annoying, but we do have some new employees.” 

“Mm.” 

“She means Macbeth.” Fabian interjected. “And his dom - in - a - trix. I said that right?” 

“Dominatrix, yes.” Hecate said. She snorted. “Bonus, how are they?” 

“Strong, for now.” 

“And Duff?” 

“Still alive.” Bonus said. Hecate sighed. 

“Not for long, I hope.” She said. “He better be dead or I’m going to kill him myself.” 

Macbeth was awake.

He held the shoebox full of old photographs in his lap and took a breath. He pulled out one of the photos. 

Duff stared back. Tiny, stubborn. He’d just fallen out of a tree, and Macbeth had taken his camera to take a picture of how funny he looked, twigs in his pigtails and skinned knees and a now-dirty strawberry-patterned dress. He looked angry and tearful and so so funny, that Macbeth had been howling with laughter for five minutes before he found out Duff had sprained his ankle.

God, he’d have to kill Duff… 

Duff, his oldest friend… 

He sighed, putting the photo of tiny Duff back in the box full of photos. Of him and Banquo, him and Angus, him and Auley, him and Lady, him and Duff. 

Him and Banquo, who he killed. 

Him and Duff, who he was about to kill. 

Macbeth fumbled in his pocket, finding an envelope with needles inside. He slid off his sleeve and jammed the needle into his arm. He needed the drugs for this. 

Duff settled in the chair, tracing his fingers up and down the horizontal line on his face. First day back at work, and he was going to ask for it off, for Ewan’s pre-birthday. Hopefully Macbeth would forgive him for leaving… 

And wouldn't notice how perfectly his vanishing would coincide with whatever Lennox was cooking up. 

Ross poked his head out of Macbeth’s office. 

“He’s ready for you.” Ross said. He looked nervous. “Duff, could you - Could you talk to Angus, at some point?” 

“Why?” 

“He’s acting odd.” Ross said. “Something happened a couple days ago. It must’ve been whatever went down at the Norse Rider base. He won’t talk to me…” He shrugged. “Maybe he’ll talk to you.” 

“I’ll try, okay?” Duff said. “As a favor to Meredith.” Ross smiled. 

“How is she?” 

“Meredith? Well enough. The pre-birthday’s been keeping her busy.” Duff said. “Do you think you could make it?” 

“Ah...no, I’m sorry.” Ross said. “Chief Commissioner’s receiving a new -” 

“Ross, let the man in!” Macbeth teased. “He doesn’t have all  _ day _ you know?” Ross nodded and went back to his desk. Duff followed Macbeth into his office. 

“So… I…” Duff started. “I want to ask you something.” 

“Oh?” 

“You remember Ewan, right?” Duff said. 

“Of course! How is the boy.” Macbeth asked. “And my goddaughter?” 

“Emily’s well.” Duff said. “Very excited. It’s Ewan’s birthday tomorrow, do you think you could make it for tonight’s pre-birthday?” 

“The pre - Oh, no, I’m sorry Duff.” Macbeth frowned. “You probably want tomorrow off?” 

“And -” 

“Sorry, we can’t do today, but you can leave early!” Macbeth said. “We’re working on finally catching Hecate, and we need all hands on deck.” 

“Ah.” Duff said. “Is there something you wanted of me?” 

“After Ewan’s birthday, when you come back…” Macbeth paused. “I want you to be my deputy.” 

“T...Thank you…” Duff stammered. Being the deputy of a murderer… not good prospects. But, he remembered, Lennox. 

“Macbeth and Duff, just like old times.” Macbeth said fondly. 

“It wasn’t quite like that.” Duff joked. 

“Beth and Ainsley.” Macbeth said. “Mysteries at the orphanage.” 

“See, our mysteries were more in the vein of who ate Nadia’s animal crackers.” Duff said. “This is different. Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” Macbeth said. “There’s no one else I’d trust.” 

Duff only felt guilt pooling in his stomach. 

“Thanks.” He managed. “You uh… anything else?” 

“No, go on.” Macbeth said. “Have a nice day.” 

Duff nodded, and headed back out, swallowing hard. 

It didn’t make the guilt any less.

“Seyton’s here, Chief Commissioner.” Ross said. Macbeth looked at the photo of Duff again. He looked back up as Seyton entered. 

“Chief Commissioner?” Seyton asked. “You wanted to see me?” 

“Of course.” Macbeth said. “I need you to take SWAT to Duff’s house.” 

“And?” 

“Kill them all.” 

He could almost hear the smirk in Seyton’s voice. “Of course, Chief Commissioner.”

Duff rubbed his face. He had no work and a hard call to make. 

Today, he resolved, he would tell Robert they needed a break until Malcolm’s death wasn’t hanging over the both of them. 

He couldn’t  _ bear _ to tear himself away from Robert for too long, but the man needed to heal. 

And maybe Duff did too. 

He picked up the phone and dialed Robert's number. 

“Hello?” 

“ _ Duff? Hi… _ ” 

“We need to talk.” Duff said. “I’ll be over soon.” 

“ _ Is something wrong? _ ” Robert asked. 

“It’s just…” Duff sighed. “We need a break.” 

“ _ What? _ ” 

“You’re upset because of Malcolm… I’m upset because of Malcolm. We both need to heal for a bit.” Duff said. “It’s hard.” 

Robert let a sob. 

“ _ Okay _ .” He said. 

“It’s not forever.” Duff promised. “I just wanna come over, so we can do this in person, we’ll take a break, and when we’re both ready, which will happen, we’ll come back to each other.” 

“ _ Okay _ .” Robert said, voice thick. “ _ Love you _ .” 

“Love you.” Duff said, and hung up, taking a deep breath. Then he stood up, told Lennox he was going, and headed to Robert’s house.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no one likes seyton

“Mom!” Meredith looked up from her stew. Ewan ran inside the house. “Emily took my truck!” 

“I’ll talk to her.” Meredith said. 

“Where’s Dad?” Ewan asked. Meredith sighed. 

“He’s off, somewhere. Being late. Probably getting your birthday present.” She sighed. 

“But he said he’d be here early!” 

“Your father… lies sometimes.” Meredith said. “He’s a liar.” 

“What’s a liar?” 

“One who swears and lies.”    
“Like when Dad said fuck?” Ewan asked excitedly. 

“Yes, like when your Dad said fuck.” Meredith said. 

“So Emily’s a liar!” Ewan said. “Like Dad.” 

“Did Emily swear?” Meredith asked. 

“She said shit.” 

“Ewan.” Meredith sighed. “Could you go get your -” She heard tire treads on the gravel driveway. 

“DAD!” She heard Emily yell. Ewan squealed in delight and ran out after her. Meredith smiled and went back to her soup. 

Duff pulled on his shirt, then his pants. 

“Duff, I…” Robert tugged the blanket around him tighter. 

“Rob, I’m gonna be late for Ewan’s party.” Duff said. “We can talk later.” 

“It’s -” 

“Rob.” Duff planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Make sure you rest, okay?” 

“Duff -” 

“You can call me soon.” Duff said. “Okay? Love you.” He grabbed his jacket, running to the car. He’d grabbed a Narco disguise kit for Ewan. He wanted one, just like his Dad. Duff gave it a fond smile, started the car, and headed home. 

The road to Fife was long, only spiking Duff’s excitement. He was free for a day! To celebrate! He’d be with his family! He could take his mind off of Macbeth for a day! 

He drove up to the back of the house and turned off the car. 

It was too quiet. He frowned. 

“Ewan? Emily?” He called. No response. He looked at the sheets on the line. 

There were holes. 

“EWAN? EMILY?” He ran in the house. “ _ MEREDITH?! _ ” 

He went into the kitchen. The soup was spilled over the oven. Boiling over. Duff quickly switched the stove off. “MEREDITH?!” He checked the bedroom. 

There were feathers all over the room. They were falling in little piles like snow, and maybe - 

Maybe Meredith and the kids were just huddling for warmth in the corner. 

It’s what it looked like. 

Duff sunk to the floor, disturbing the red-tainted snowflake feathers. 

“Meredith?” He asked softly, touching her face. 

She was cold and still. He gently touched her neck, feeling for a pulse. 

Nothing. He recoiled, taking long breaths, then let out a sob. 

“Meredith.” He gasped out. 

He heard an engine roar, and some more bangs as the bedroom window shattered. Duff dove under the bed. 

“Angus!” He heard Seyton yell. “Fucking  _ shoot! _ ” 

SWAT?

His mind flashed back to Macbeth. “ _ You can go home early _ .” The SWAT team must’ve arrived earlier. But how would he know? How would he know that Duff knew? 

Lennox.  _ Lennox _ . That  _ traitor _ . There was no one from Capitol coming after all. 

_ I should’ve died _ , Duff thought.  _ I could’ve died. Macbeth was going to kill me _ . 

“Duff isn’t here!” It was Auley. “Shit!! Fuck!!! We just killed -” A sob that definitely wasn’t Auley.

“BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!” Seyton yowled. “We report back to Macbeth!” 

Duff covered his mouth, biting on his hand, and waited until the SWAT team left before screaming and beginning to sob. 

“Angus.” Macbeth said. Angus was laying on the floor, on his back, hands clasped over his crucifix. “Hey.” 

“Hello.” Angus replied dully.

“How are you feeling?” Macbeth asked. Angus let out a moan.

“Is this about the Norse Riders?” Macbeth asked. “Or the Duff’s? Or both?” 

“Both.” Angus repeated miserably. “I… I killed innocents…They were innocent people…The baby…” 

“Where is the baby?” Macbeth asked. 

“In a shoebox.” Angus murmured. “I don’t know where Seyton put it.” Macbeth looked up, noticing multiple shoeboxes on top of the lockers. He pulled one out, then opened it, quickly shutting it again. 

“Burn it.” 

“You can’t be serious.” Angus said weakly. 

“Take it to the incinerators and burn it.” Macbeth said. “Prove your loyalty to SWAT.” 

“I am not going to  _ burn a baby!!! _ ” Angus yelled. 

“What is our slogan, Angus?” Macbeth asked. “Loyalty. Fraternity.” 

“ _ I am not going to burn the  _ **_body_ ** _ of a  _ **_baby_ ** _!!! _ ” Angus’ voice reached a higher volume. “It’s a baby… in a shoebox! That I killed!!!” 

“Angus!” Macbeth yelled. 

“No…” Angus said. “The answer’s no.” 

“Man  _ up _ Angus.” Macbeth snapped. “You’ll betray me and Auley and spit on Banquo’s memory?” 

“No that’s -” 

“I’ll take the baby myself.” Macbeth snapped. “When you’ve grown a spine and are ready to stand with SWAT again, come talk to me.” 

“Macbeth -” 

Macbeth took the shoebox and left, grabbing a taxi. 

“Take me to Inverness, wait, and then take me back. I need to make an announcement.” 

Duff took a breath, and pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He’d ditched his car before leaving Fife, stealing a bike from a neighbor. He could tell Macbeth - no, couldn’t tell Macbeth. Macbeth did this. He had to tell  _ someone _ . 

He’d left his house after frantically stuffing multiple things in a backpack. He didn't quite remember what he’d stuffed in there, more preoccupied with getting out before SWAT came back. He slipped behind the bar and rifled through it. 

“For  _ fucks  _ sake.” He mumbled, looking at the top of the backpack. It wasn’t a change of clothes or anything  _ helpful _ . It was a framed photo of Meredith and the kids. He didn't remember stuffing that in there but he wasn’t about to throw it away. His heart sinking, he continued to look through the bag. A change of clothes - he could work with that - a few old journals he must have forgotten to take out, a pocket knife he’d gotten as a gift from his uncle, and - 

Ewan’s birthday gift… 

Duff started to sob. The Narco kit. Just like what he wore. Fake beard, fake glasses, beanie hat. Just what Ewan wanted. He wanted to be like his Dad… 

A horrible career choice, really. He’d gotten Ewan killed. Why would Ewan want to be like him? Why, why, why… 

He faintly heard Macbeth’s voice on the radio. He strained himself, listening. 

“ _ Dangerous… Killed his family _ -” Duff felt faint. He swore, then sunk to the ground, head in his hands, and sobbed once more. It was loud. Too loud. People could hear. People could  _ hear _ . 

Duff pulled the Narco disguise out of the backpack again. 

Glasses. Beard. Hat. Duff traced his scar. The top would be covered by the hat, the midsection by his glasses, the bottom by his beard. But where was he going to hide? Where no one would look? 

Where was the last place someone would look for a wanted criminal? 

The police station. And he knew the perfect place to hide. 

Caithness woke up to a loud banging. 

“Minty…” She yawned. “Stop fucking around with the pipes….” 

“S...not me.” Menteith yawned. “What fuckin… time?” She practically rolled over Caithness, grabbing the clock. 

“11 PM.” She said at last. “Neighbors.” 

“Probably from you fucking around with the  _ pipes! _ ” Caithness said. “I’ll get the door.” 

She pulled on a bathrobe, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and then fumbled for her glasses, setting them on her nose. She opened the door. 

It was Seyton and Lennox. 

Caithness slammed the door shut.

“Caithness, open the door.” Seyton said. 

“Come back with a fucking warrant.” Caithness said. 

“We have a warrant.” 

“For  _ what _ .” Caithness said. Menteith was scrambling for a shirt, tugging it over her body and then tying a bathrobe on. “What are you looking for?” 

“Duff.” Seyton said. “His family’s dead.” 

“Then why are you -” 

“Macbeth says he killed them.” Caithness looked at Menteith, who shook her head. Caithness knew Duff since college. He wouldn't  _ kill  _ Meredith. “We think he’s hiding out with you.” 

“The only people in here are me and Menteith.” Caithness said, relenting and letting them in. Seyton shoved past her with a smug smirk.

“Ah yes, you share an apartment.” Seyton said. His eyes immediately went to the double bed. “And a bed?” Menteith swallowed, hard.

“I broke my old one.” Caithness said, going to Menteith’s side. “We have to share.” 

“Seyton.” Lennox said. “Stop.” 

Seyton ignored him, poking around the apartment. He looked out the window, under the couches, in the kitchen, then returned to the bedroom. 

“C - could you not?” Menteith asked. “Duff isn’t hiding in our underwear drawer?” 

“We’ll never know until we look.” Seyton said. 

“Seyton.” Lennox said, stalking over and grabbing Seyton’s arm. “He’s not  _ here _ . Where’s he gonna hide? Besides, he doesn’t even stay here on the weekdays.” 

“Would’ve been helpful to know, Lennox. Where does he stay?” Seyton asked. 

“Robert’s.” Lennox said. 

“My apologies, ladies.” Seyton said, faux-gently. “See you both at work.” He stalked out. 

“Sorry.” Lennox said. “Really, I’m sorry.” 

“Get out.” Menteith said. Lennox nodded and shut the door behind him. 

Caithness let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Menteith let out a tiny sob, burying her face in Caithness’ robe. 

“There there…” Caithness said, petting Menteith’s hair. “Minty, he’s gone. He won’t be coming back.” 

“I hate him.” Menteith said, voice shaking. “I hate him so much.” 

“I know…” Caithness said, slipping her robe off and pulling Menteith back to the bed. “Breathe, Minty. You’re gonna be okay.” 

“Do you think Macbeth needs a new suit, Bonus?” Hecate asked. 

Bonus shrugged. “He has a dinner jacket.” 

“For a funeral? No.” Hecate shook her head. “Do you know his measurements? He’s about the same height as you? Shoulders?” 

“Yeah, he borrowed my shirt once.” Bonus said. “For a press conference.” 

“Alright.” Hecate said, examining Bonus with half-interest. “Tailcoat or…” 

“Tailcoats would make him look like a victorian.” Fabian piped up from the couch. He was toying with a bishop on a chessboard. “It’s so weird. Kinda old-fashioned.” 

“Fair.” Hecate nodded. “A simple jacket then. You could do with a new suit too, Bonus.” 

“Do I get a suit?” Fabian asked at the same time Bonus said. “I have a fine suit.” 

“You work for me, Bonus, fine isn’t enough.” Hecate said. “You’re getting a new suit. As for you?” She ruffled Fabian’s hair. “You’ll get a suit too. You’re old enough.” 

“Thank you.” Both Bonus and Fabian chorused. 

Duff had broken into the evidence room. 

It wasn’t  _ breaking in _ per se. Caithness had given him the keys at some point - he’d forgotten when - and he’d just used them to get in. 

Banquo’s car was in there, which he immediately hopped into, taking a deep breath, safe in the darkness. He checked his watch, the only light in the gloom. 

12:03.

Ewan’s birthday. 

Duff’s breath shook as he fought to keep himself from crying again. He buried his face in his hands, allowing himself a tiny sob. At that moment he heard footsteps, and slithered into the back of the car, laying on the floor. 

“I smell something.” It was Seyton. Duff froze. He didn't dare  _ breathe _ . “Blood.” 

“I swear I heard something.” Gowrie said. “Nevermind then.”

“It’s dark down here.” Lennox commented with a yawn. “I’m tired.” Duff dug his nails into his palm, right where he suspected his criss-cross scar to be. Lennox.  _ Lennox _ . “Can we go home?” 

“Not until we’ve checked everything.” Seyton said. A yelp from Lennox. 

“There’s  _ rats _ !” He yelled. Duff suppressed a laugh. “That’s probably what you heard, Gowrie.” 

“Okay.” Gowrie said, and Duff could practically hear them shrug. The silence built up, and Duff was almost  _ certain _ they were gone, before -

Someone discharged their gun, loudly, multiple times. Duff covered his head with one arm and bit down on his palm with the other. 

Silence. Footsteps. 

“There’s one place we forgot to check.” Seyton said. Duff went perfectly still. 

“Yes.” Lennox moaned. “Our  _ beds _ .” 

“He’s back at his house in Fife!” Duff felt weak. He closed his eyes, sending a prayer to the heavens. Footsteps and then the door slammed shut. He waited a few minutes more, before poking his head out of the car. 

No one. 

Now, where could he go? He pushed himself back to the front of the car, one of his elbows hitting the glove compartment. 

“Shit!” He swore as it popped open. 

Then he remembered. The meeting. Maybe Banquo had evidence in here. For what happened to Malcolm. He rifled through the glove compartment, finding only a pencil and notepad. He felt indents in the paper. He turned his watch on, grabbed the pencil and colored over the indents. 

In the blue lights, he could find words. 

Dolphin nightclub. Bodhild. District 2. Tannery street.

Fleance was missing. Maybe this is where he went. 

Macbeth’s jurisdiction didn't extend to Capitol. 

But how would he  _ get  _ to - 

_ The Glamis _ . The ship. The woman’s hand. 

For the first time since leaving Fife, Duff allowed himself a smile. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> local bastard throws hands and gets his ass kicked by duff (also caithness gets meme rights)

Macbeth felt very out of place at the funeral for Duff’s family. Too fancy. Too itchy. He was sober as well, which wasn’t helpful. He took a breath, caught Lennox’s eye from where they were patrolling, making sure Duff didn't show. 

Macbeth knew better. Duff was too clever to show up at the funeral. He would come  _ later _ , so Macbeth would have some other people guarding the cemetery to catch and kill him. 

“Macbeth.” It was the mayor, Edward. A boy lingered on the fringes, blonde and in an expensive suit, same style as Edward. “Hi.” 

“Hello Mr. Mayor.” Macbeth said. “How are you?” 

“Well enough.” Edward said. “Yourself?” 

“Well.” Macbeth said. The two stood in silence for a bit before Edward spoke.

“So, what are your plans with Duff?” 

“We’ve stationed guards around the graveyard in case Duff comes to visit.” Macbeth explained. “He’s a wanted man, and there’s a reward on his head.” 

“I’ve been doing some digging.” Edward said. “Do you think you should put Duff’s first name? Seeing as it’s… different. And what he could go by as a disguise.” 

_ Ainsley _ .

“I’m not sure what you mean, Mr. Mayor.” Macbeth said tightly.

“Seeing as her name is Ainsley D-” Macbeth whirled on the Mayor. 

“His name is Duff, and he will  _ not  _ go by Ainsley.” Macbeth hissed. “I know him well enough that he would never even dream of using it again. Duff is as much of a man as I am.” 

Edward raised an eyebrow. 

“Let me handle  _ him _ .” Macbeth snapped. “If you have nothing better to do than disrespect my former friend, you may  _ leave _ .” 

Edward walked off, getting the attention of the blonde boy, who waved at Macbeth, gave him a wide smile, and followed Edward out.

“Who is that boy?” Lady asked curiously, shivering in the cold wind. She tightened her coat around her. 

“No idea.” Macbeth said. “What do you think?” 

Lady took a long pause. Just when Macbeth thought she’d zoned out, she turned to him again. 

“I think that Edward’s got a dirty secret.” Lady said with a smirk.

Duff hadn’t been on a boat in a long time. 

The last time he’d been on a boat was approximately when he was four, when he and his uncle and his cousin, who he could barely remember, had gone to a celebration in the Capitol. Duff had thrown up over the side of the boat, having no sea legs. His cousin had come over - Duff only remembered a few things about her, her long red hair, her skinned knees, and the pink spot on her collarbone that was shaped like a lopsided crown - and called him a pussy. 

Sea travel was just as miserable as he’d remembered. 

Another wave hit the boat and Duff grabbed tight onto the counter to stabilize himself. No such luck, as he’d slid into the counter and bruised his hip immediately after. He swore under his breath and made his way back to the coffee machine. Any minute now the sailors would come down and demand their coffee - some had been up late last night when Duff had been trying to  _ sleep _ \- and he was just as annoyed as the hungover sailors that he would be serving. 

“Galley boy!” Speak of the devil. As Duff finished pouring the cup a few of the sailors came down. “Where’s your pish coffee?” 

“Right here.” Duff said.  _ Keep your head down. Don’t cause trouble. _

“Does it have cream in it?” The leader of this particular gang, someone with a norse - ish name, slammed his fist on the counter, making Duff jump. 

“No.” Duff said. “Someone threw it out. It was expired.”  _ He’d _ thrown it out, because that  _ smell _ was going to kill him. 

“How am I gonna drink it with no cream?” Sweyn - was that his name? It had to be - demanded. He looked legitimately concerned. 

“Drink it.” Duff said. The others had taken their cups, leaving Sweyn glaring at Duff. 

“Put something in it, galley boy.” He said softly, in that tone that suggested rage. 

“Fine.” Duff said. And then he spat in it. 

There was a few seconds of silence. Someone mumbled “Oh  _ shit _ .” 

And Sweyn lunged over the counter at him, nailing Duff in the nose with his fist. Duff retaliated by kneeing Sweyn in the balls, then grabbing him in a headlock. 

“Godwinsson! McAvoy!” Sweyn looked up and Duff released his hold on the sailor, remembering his fake name. The captain of the ship was in the Galley. “To my office.” 

“Yes sir.” Both men piped up, climbing off of the floor. Duff swore under his breath. He had one job.  _ One job!  _ And he couldn’t even do that.

“You first.” The captain said, pointing to Duff. Duff swallowed and nodded, following him into his office.

“I like not to ask questions about my crew.” The captain started. “Some of you just want one voyage and nothing else, some stay on, like Godwinsson. He’s smart, just a bit hot-headed. On the run for bedding a nun in Capitol.” 

Duff resisted a snort.

“But that neck hold you had, that was police work.” The captain said. “So, McAvoy, you can tell me what’s going on. I can get rid of Godwinsson - ” 

“We were play-fighting.” Duff said stiffly. “He said the Wessex stranglehold was better than the Fife grip. Clearly, he was wrong.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“That’s what happened.” Duff said with a shrug. “He’ll back it up.” 

The captain gave him a long searching look. 

“Dismissed.” He said at last. Duff practically fled the office. 

On the way back to the galley, Duff caught a glimpse of his reflection. His hat had ridden up, exposing some of his scar. He quickly pulled it back down and hoped the captain didn't see.

“Sir.” Macbeth woke up with Jack shaking him. 

“Wh…” Macbeth opened one eye, rubbing it with his fist. “What is it…” 

“It’s Lady.” That woke him up quick. He sat up, throwing on a shirt. “You… really need to see this.” 

He followed Jack to the roof. 

“Can’t you just tell her to come back to bed?” Macbeth asked. 

“Normally.” Jack said. “But…” The moon came out from the clouds, Lady turned, and Jack pointed. 

Lady’s dress had slipped to the side, and she was holding something to her chest. 

Macbeth counted several holes in the baby’s head. 

“Oh.” He said quietly.

Caithness woke up when the phone was ringing. 

She put a pillow over her head, and listened to Menteith fumble for the phone. 

“Hi.” She said. A pause, then Menteith elbowed her gently. “It’s for you.” 

“Mh…” Caithness took the phone. “H’llo?” 

“ _ Is this Caithness? _ ” 

“No, this is Patrick.” Caithness retorted. “Yes, this is Caithness. Who is it?” 

“ _ It’s Angus. Could you meet me at the abandoned factory? _ ” 

“Uh. Now?” 

“ _ No. No. Sorry. Before work? _ ” Angus stammered. 

“That works.” Caithness said. “Goodnight.” She slammed the phone back on the receiver and went back to sleep.

“What was that about?” Ross asked as Angus climbed back into bed. “Are you going to tell me?” 

“I don’t want to…” Angus said weakly. “It’s just.” He sighed. “You have to promise not to hate me.” 

“I promise.” Ross said. 

“Macbeth.” Angus said. “He’s had SWAT kill people. Unarmed people.” 

“But you’re in SWAT.” Ross said. Angus nodded weakly. “Oh. Oh my god.” 

“There was a  _ baby _ .” Angus said with a sob. “In a shoebox.” 

“Oh…” Ross wrapped one arm around Angus’ shoulders. “I’m so sorry…”

“So I called Caithness and Lennox.” Angus said. “They’re gonna meet me at the abandoned factory tomorrow.” 

“Okay.” 

“And hopefully they’ll be able to help me.” 

Ross nodded. He pulled Angus in for a kiss. 

“You’re very brave.” Ross said. 

“I wish I could believe that.” Angus said, clinging to Ross. “I really do.” 

“You  _ are! _ ” Ross said. “You’re the bravest man I have ever met.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” Ross smiled. “Now rest. You have a long day ahead tomorrow.” 

Angus couldn’t sleep. He rolled over, wrapping his arm around Ross’ waist. He breathed in, inhaling the slight lemony scent of Ross’ shampoo. He breathed out, ruffling Ross’ dark curls. 

_ You’re the bravest man I have ever met.  _

Angus was a coward, plain and simple. How could Ross think he was otherwise? Ross was too good for him. Ross was too good for this world. He ghosted his hand over Ross’ hips, sighing. 

If Ross thought he was brave… maybe he could be. Just tomorrow. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "oh, he's high out of his MIND"

Caithness stepped out of the taxi, tightening her coat. 

“Caithness!” It was Lennox. “Hi!” 

“Hi Lennox.” Caithness said, adjusting her hat. “You too?”   
“Yeah.” Lennox said. “Let’s see what Angus wants.” 

Caithness pushed open the door, looking around. 

“You came.” Angus said, appearing out of the gloom, a relieved smile on his face. “You really came.” 

“What’s going on?” Caithness asked. 

“It’s Macbeth.” Angus said. “He’s - Something’s wrong. He’s changed… He’s doing bad things.” 

“Bad things, and they get good results.” Lennox snorted. “What’s the real reason we’re here, Angus?” 

“The Norse Riders.” Angus said. “They were unarmed. And we killed them anyway.” 

“Okay.” Lennox said. Caithness did a double take. “I know it’s a harsh outlook to have, but Angus, this is our  _ job! _ ” 

“There -” 

“No one’s making inquiries into anti-corruption because the Chief Commissioner did his job.” Lennox snapped. “Admittedly, a harsh job, but it’s done.” 

“There was a  _ baby _ .” Angus said with a sob. “In a  _ shoebox _ .” 

“Lennox has a point.” Caithness said. “Sorry, Angus.” She turned to leave.

“How about Duff’s family?” Caithness stopped cold. She turned. 

“Wh… what?” She said weakly. Lennox blinked, confused. 

“Macbeth had SWAT kill Duff’s family. He was supposed to die too.” Angus said. 

“We have no evidence.” Lennox said. “The rest of SWAT is fiercely loyal to Macbeth. All we have is your testimony.” 

Angus let out a sob.

“Caithness.” Lennox said. “Let’s go.” 

“I’m sorry Angus.” Caithness said. “I can’t help you.” Angus nodded, wiping his face.

“Okay.” He said weakly. 

Caithness followed Lennox out of the factory, hailing a taxi back to the station. She took a breath, and watched the road ahead. 

Angus settled back into his seat, squeezing his crucifix in one hand. He breathed. 

The reporter slid into the seat in front of him.

“Hi.” Angus said. Ross had gotten in contact with Rois from patrols, who had a friend named Alasdair, who had a brother named Maelpetair who was a reporter. 

“So you have potentially damning information on Macbeth.” Maelpetair said. Angus nodded. “I see. Tell me about that?” 

And Angus told him about  _ everything _ . It felt so freeing. And Maelpetair  _ listened _ . It was so freeing. 

“Thank you, Angus.” Maelpetair said once he was done. “I’ll contact you for a follow up?” 

“Okay.” Angus said. “Thank you.”    
“No, Angus.” Maelpetair said. “Thank you.” 

Angus gathered his wits, and ran to the grocery store down the street, and grabbed some expensive chocolates and some red wine - Ross’ favorite - because they were going to  _ celebrate _ today. 

_ Maybe I am brave _ . He thought with a smile. 

Duff had adjusted a bit better than his first day with the crew. Sweyn didn't give him much trouble anymore, and most of the other sailors seemed almost friendly, making chatter over their coffees, and occasionally inviting Duff to play games with them. 

He hated to say it, but he felt more at home here than in Homicide. 

He was washing out the cups when Sweyn approached him.

“McAvoy.”    
“Godwinsson.” Duff said. 

“Thanks.” Sweyn looked at his hands. “For not ratting me out to the captain. I was….out of line. And angry.” 

“No, it’s no problem.” Duff said. “I did provoke it.” 

“My brother died a few days ago.” Sweyn said. “Well, I have a lot of brothers, but yeah, none of them have ever died before.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Duff said. 

“It’s not your fault.” Sweyn said with an awkward laugh. “Just. Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Duff said. “Want some coffee?” 

“Sure.” Sweyn said with a small smile. 

“Lennox.” Lennox stretched luxuriously in his chair.    
“Hi.” He said, then noticed the stormy expression on Macbeth’s face. “What is it?” 

“When were you going to tell me about Angus?” Macbeth demanded. Lennox’s stomach dropped. 

“Well.” Lennox stammered. “I. Uh. It slipped.” 

“It slipped.” Macbeth said with a raised eyebrow. “A hint of  _ treason  _ from  _ Angus  _ and it just  _ slipped your mind _ .” 

“Sorry?” Lennox offered nervously. “How did - How did  _ you  _ find out?” 

“A reporter called me.” Macbeth said. 

“Oh.” Lennox shrunk into his seat. “A reporter…” 

“Yes, Lennox. A  _ reporter _ .” Macbeth snarled. “A  _ reporter.  _ Who said Angus specifically named  _ you and Caithness _ as people who supported me.” 

“Oh.” Lennox repeated. 

“I’m giving you a chance to make up for this, Lennox.” Macbeth said. 

“Sex?” Lennox joked. 

“That’s for after you make up for it.” Macbeth said seriously. “You and Seyton are going to kill Angus.” 

Lennox’s stomach dropped to the center of the earth. 

“Kill Angus?” He asked pathetically. “I don’t even know where he lives!” 

“Well, our reporter will arrange Angus for a meeting at the old incinerator.” Macbeth said. “You will meet him there, and kill him. Burn the body.” 

Lennox nodded. He rubbed his arm.

“Okay.” He said. “Okay.” 

“Jack?” Macbeth asked, arriving back at the Inverness. “Where’s Lady?” 

“She’s… resting.” Jack said.

“And the…” He winced. 

“It’s in the shoebox.” Jack said. “What are we going to do with it?” 

“We need to get rid of it.” Macbeth said. “She’ll go back to normal when it’s gone.” 

“Where are we gonna put it?” Jack asked. 

“Burn it.” Macbeth said. “We’ll burn it. And she’ll go back to normal.” 

“Okay.” Jack nodded. “I’ll do it.” 

Macbeth watched him go, and a quiet thought entered his mind. 

He wished his priorities were as simple as Jack the Receptionist’s.

Lennox had never considered himself a brave man. He’d gotten to where he was in life through shortcuts. He wanted to be taller, and instead of not slouching, he bought platforms. He wanted to look more masculine, and instead of admitting himself to the barber, every month he’d take the electric razor and cut it himself. He wanted a high paying job, and, well, the Chief Commissioner before Duncan wasn’t opposed to taking whatever Lennox could give. 

Tonight’s job would require him to kill a man. 

He’d stayed in Anti-Corruption because he wasn’t brave enough to look a man in the eye and shoot him. 

He’d often been told he was a coward, by Duncan, by his father, by anyone who knew about him. Macbeth had been the first to call him brave. The drugs had been the first thing that made him feel brave.

He’d started when he was sixteen, self - destructing from his failure in school, in the midst of a complete identity crisis, and he’d taken a hit off one of his wealthy classmates - a girl he’d later dated, her name was Sheila - and had never felt better. He would forever remember when he’d floated through school, gone to the bathroom, and cut all of his long red hair until all that remained was a chin length bob. He’d gone to the tattoo parlor near the school and gotten a lip piercing. He’d come home just as the high wore off and the sheer regret slammed into him with the force of a truck.

He’d searched for that perfect high all his life, and sure, Hecate’s drugs were efficient, sure, but they could never mask the discomfort he always felt in his own body, not like  _ whatever _ he’d taken in junior year.

But it would be enough to get him through the night. 

“Angus!” Ross giggled as Angus threw him to the bed, kissing him all over his face. “Angus, my glasses!! Angus what is all this?” 

“I.” Angus said with a proud smile. “Am going to be on the radio soon, talking about internal corruption.” 

“ANGUS!!” Ross squealed. “I’m so proud of you!” Now it was Angus’ turn to land on the bed, the bedsprings creaking in protest. “You! Are the bravest man! I have ever  _ met! _ ” 

Angus allowed himself a proud smile. 

“I bought things for our celebration.” He said. Ross looked at the table with wide eyes.

“Angus you  _ didn't! _ ” He laughed. 

“Oh, but I did.” Angus said with a smirk. “Get ready, cause tonight is going to be  _ spicy _ .” Ross giggled, throwing off his work jacket as Angus tossed off his hoodie. 

They’d barely started when the phone rang. 

“Oh come  _ on _ .” Ross groaned. “Who is it?” He fixed his glasses and grabbed the phone. Angus watched him, slightly dizzy, and regaining his breath. He thought Ross looked like a god, just a bit. Holy, at the very least. 

“Hello?” Ross answered. “Oh, yes, I can reach Angus.” The smirk on Ross’ face drew a snort from Angus. “He’s right here.” Ross handed the phone to Angus.

“Hello?” Angus asked.

“ _ This is Maelpetair? _ ” The reporter’s familiar voice went through the speakers. “ _ Could that followup happen tonight? _ ” 

“Uh.” Angus frowned. “Of course. When?” 

“ _ Eleven. At the old incinerator building. We have to keep this a secret and all. _ ” Angus nodded. Plenty more time for him and Ross.

“Of course, yes.” Angus said. “See you at eleven.” Maelpetair hung up.

“The reporter?” Ross asked. 

“The reporter!” Angus laughed. Ross squealed and started kissing him again. 

Lennox tapped his foot in anticipation, stretching his arms upward. He could see the moon through the roof. He reached, cupping it between his hands. 

“Any minute now.” Seyton said. “Lennox. Stop.” 

“Sorry.” Lennox said. “It’s just - the moon is so entrancing tonight.” 

“Mm.” Seyton sighed. “Now shut up.” They heard a car pull up. The engine turned off. And a few seconds later, Angus entered the warehouse. He ventured a bit further in. 

“Maelpetair?” 

“Close but no.” Seyton said, stepping out of the shadows. Lennox followed suit, practically buzzing with excitement. 

“S - Seyton?” Angus stammered, then noticing Lennox his face twisted into a snarl. “You.”    
“Me.” Lennox said. “Unfortunately we do have to kill you now.” 

Angus shook his head. 

“You don’t have to do this, Lennox.” 

“I do.” Lennox said, a giggle escaping his lips. “Stand still please.” 

He fired, the bullet grazing Angus’ head. Angus let out a yelp. 

“Oops.” Lennox frowned, aimed again. This time Angus fell. 

“Now what.” Lennox asked. 

“We burn the body, of course.” Seyton said. Lennox looked at the blood, pooling under Angus’ head. It seemed to sparkle and glow. 

“Pretty.” Lennox remarked. 

“You’re high, aren’t you.” Seyton deadpanned. “Help me drag it to the incinerator.” 

“Right.” Lennox said, hoisting one of Angus’ arms over his shoulder. Seyton took the other one and they tossed him into the incinerator. Seyton slammed the door shut, and turned it on. 

“Now what?” Lennox asked again. 

“We’re done.” Seyton said. “You can go home, I can report to Macbeth.” 

“Mkay.” Lennox said with a laugh. “See you tomorrow!”

“Whatever.” Seyton said. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the boys go on a date!

“McAvoy.” Duff woke up, rubbing his eyes. 

“What the  _ hell _ time is it.” Duff groaned. 

“Time you were discovered, McAvoy.” Duff vaguely recognized Sweyn’s voice. “Or should I say Duff?” 

That woke Duff up immediately. 

“How -” 

“The captain knows.” Sweyn said. “He called someone named Seyton on the radio yesterday. And we’re docking tomorrow.” 

“Shit.” Duff swore.

“But don’t worry, I have a plan.” Sweyn continued. “Follow me.” 

“Why are you helping me?” Duff asked, throwing on his coat. 

“You didn't rat me out.” Sweyn shrugged. “And… you remind me of my brother. The one that died, that is.” 

“Oh.” Duff said. “Again, I -” 

“Save it.” Sweyn said. “Take this.” He yanked Duff’s beanie off, and tossed him his own hat. “And follow me.” He led Duff to the side of the boat. The sun wasn’t even up, the moon had just risen. 

“I use this boat to get tools when we’re about to dock. You take this boat, and everyone will think you’re me.” Sweyn said. “Now go.” 

“Thank you.” Duff said. “So much.” 

“It’s no trouble.” Sweyn said. “I won’t rat on you. Now we’re even.” 

“Hey, Lennox?” Lennox looked up from his tea, where he’d been mixing several aspirins in. It was Ross. “Uh, two things.” 

“What’s up?” Lennox asked blearily. God, he should not have snorted that much brew last night. Speaking of, what  _ had  _ happened? 

“Have you seen Angus?” Ross asked. 

“No.” Lennox said.  _ I don’t think so _ . “Second thing?” 

“Macbeth’s here?” 

“Ah.” Lennox said, stirring his aspirin - tea some more. “Send him in. I hope you find him.” Ross nodded, and swallowed, letting Macbeth in. 

“Hey.” Lennox said, sipping his tea. 

“Good job with Angus.” Macbeth said quietly. And the events of last night hit him. 

“Thanks…” He said, now slightly queasy. “You know I’ve never, um… shot someone before.” 

“Oh.” Macbeth said, sitting on the desk. “You alright?” 

Lennox took a long sip of his tea. 

“I’ve been wanting to ask.” Lennox said. “Would you like to come over tonight?” 

“Tonight?” Macbeth asked curiously. “What would that entail?” 

“Whatever you want it to.” Lennox said. “Booze. Sex. Drugs. Whatever.” 

“That sounds good.” Macbeth said, giving Lennox a quick kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you tonight, then.” 

“Yeah.” Lennox said. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

As Macbeth left, Lennox felt his cheeks go hot. He touched the place Macbeth kissed him lightly, a small smile on his face. 

“Hey, boss.” Caithness had been promoted to head of Homicide after Duff’s vanishing, with Menteith promoted to Forensics, which meant she had to deal with the rest of the Homicide department, also known as everyone else's' rejects. She looked up to Hazel - ex SWAT - and repressed her urge to yelp. The twisted scarring on her face had contorted her mouth into a near - permanent grimace and Caithness could always see  _ way _ too much of her mouth. 

“Yes?” Caithness asked. 

“Well, the old incinerator was activated last night.” Hazel said. “Do you have any missing persons cases?” 

“This isn’t SWAT, you know.” Caithness said. Hazel scoffed. 

“I’m all too aware, Caithness.” She said with a snarl. “I just  _ think  _ that people use the incinerator to  _ destroy bodies _ . And we should explore that.” 

“...Fair.” Caithness said. “And no, I don’t believe so?” 

“I heard Angus was missing.” Galloway chirped. Ex - Anti - Corruption, kicked for his gambling habit, and taken in by Homicide. 

“Angus?” Caithness asked, stomach dropping. 

“Yeah!” Galloway remarked. 

“Maybe we’ll find his stupid crucifix in the incinerator.” Lothian added with a snort. Lothian was Ex - Narco, who just moved in protest when Galloway was moved. “He always was the religious type.” 

“This isn’t funny.” Caithness said. “A man could be dead.”    
“Men die all the time, Caithness.” Gowrie rumbled. Ex - Gang Unit. “It’s our job to figure out how they die.” 

Transferred for violent tendencies. 

Caithness sighed. “Fine. Check it out if you  _ must _ .” 

“Sweet.” Hazel said, and the members of Homicide vanished. Caithness finally breathed normally. 

Seyton arrived in Capitol right when the Glamis pulled into dock. 

“You won’t investigate my crew?” The Captain asked. 

“Where is Duff.” 

“In his cabin.” The Captain said. 

“Is any of your crew missing?” Seyton asked, noticing a little motorboat with “ _ Glamis _ ” written on it.

“Someone reported Godwinsson left to get supplies early this morning.” The Captain said. 

“Godwinsson!” Seyton laughed. “Which one. Aren’t there, what? Six?”

No response. “So may I enter?” 

“Sure.” Seyton stalked into the ship, pushing past the assorted crewmates, until he found Duff’s cabin. He could see the classic Narco beanie.

“Good morning, Duff.” He said, yanking the blankets off. 

Dark hair, pale skin. The man - NOT Duff - rolled over, and Seyton blinked in confusion.

“What the fuck.” The man said. “Who are you supposed to be?” 

“Where’s Duff?!” Seyton snarled. 

“Who?” The man adjusted his beanie.    
“He owned that hat.” Seyton said. “How did you get it?!”   
“McAvoy?” The man retorted. “Fuck if I know. As for the hat? It was cold, and mine was gone.” 

Seyton smacked the man in the face with his gun barrel. The man cried out and fell back to the bed. 

“What’s the  _ TRUTH?! _ ” Seyton snarled. 

“I’m telling the truth, pig!” The man snapped back. “Fuck off the ship!” 

Seyton stormed out, and searched the entire length of the ship. 

But Duff was gone. 

Duff yanked his glasses off, checking the note again and pulling Sweyn’s hat tighter. 

“District 2?” 

Someone pointed him down that direction

“Tannery Street?” 

“To the left, then go right on Mearns Drive. Your beard’s falling off.” 

Duff cursed and yanked it off once he was sufficiently alone. 

“Dolphin -” 

“Oh, Bodhild’s place? Just a few blocks down.” Duff continued onward until he saw a sign.  _ Dolphin Nightclub _ was written in neon blue lettering. He knocked on the door. 

A woman, in a casual shirt and jeans answered. She was pretty, in an unconventional sort of way, with long blonde hair and tanned skin. Perks of living in Capitol, Duff supposed. 

“We’re closed.” The woman said. “It’s like, 9 AM.”

“Banquo sent me.” The woman raised one eyebrow, and then Duff felt a gun barrel at his head. The woman stepped aside. 

“Go forward.” A voice said. “Slowly.” Duff obeyed, hearing the door close behind him. “Thanks Bodhild. Continue.” Duff went forward, eyes on the walk ahead, up the stairs, down a hallway, to a door. “Open it.” 

“Why?” 

“There’s someone you should talk to.” The gun pressed harder down on his head. “Door. Don’t make me do it.” 

Duff opened the door. 

Nothing could’ve prepared him for what he saw next. 

Malcolm was sitting at a table, reading a book, in a hoodie that looked much too large to be his. The scene was so casual, Duff almost laughed. 

“Malcolm?” He asked, voice cracking a bit. Malcolm looked up, and smiled, that same lopsided grin he’d fallen in love with. 

“Hello, Duff.” He said softly. It was really him. Duff let out a wet noise he was sure was a sob.

“You’re alive…” Duff said. “You’re - You’re really here. I thought -” 

“I’d died?” Malcolm put his book down, and Duff ventured to the table, sitting down in front of Malcolm. He was so close. So undeniably  _ here _ . “Yeah. That was Banquo’s intent.” 

“Did you plan this from the start?” Duff asked weakly. “Rob - you have to tell -” 

“I called him already.” Malcolm interrupted. “And as for planning, no. I was pretty convinced Banquo was going to kill me when I wrote that note. But no, I’m alright.” He smiled again. Duff’s heart melted a little bit. 

“How is Robert?” Malcolm asked, leaning forward a bit, hand venturing closer to Duff’s, as if he was worried Duff wasn’t real. “Is he holding up alright?” 

“Uh.” Duff started, unsure of how to phrase what had happened. “Well -”    
The gun barrel pressed against his head once more. Malcolm looked up at most likely Duff’s captor and nodded. 

“How did you get here?” His voice had shifted. More wary. “How did you find us?” 

“I went into Banquo’s car, and found the notepad, shaded some indents -” Duff said. “I thought this would be where Banquo had hidden someone to tell me what happened to you, I never thought -” 

“Sus.” The person with the gun interjected. “Really, honestly, sus.” 

“Please say suspicious, you and Julia are the  _ worst _ .” Malcolm groaned. 

Duff’s captor snorted. 

“But - Duff, I want you to be completely honest with me - did Macbeth send you?” 

“No!” Duff snapped. Malcolm yanked his hand back. “Have you been listening to the radio? My family’s  _ dead! _ ” 

“Not to be harsh.” Malcolm continued. “But that could be a front.” 

“A  _ front?! _ ” Duff yelped. “I saw - They - God, Malcolm, they’re  _ gone _ !” Everything hit again and Duff let out a sob. Malcolm reached over, and took Duff’s hands. Duff squeezed it back. 

“If you’re not going to take Macbeth out of office just -” Duff breathed. “You’d need to kill me too. I can’t just stand by and watch the town fall apart, Malcolm, I just can’t.” He started to cry again, and rocked back and forth, head in his hands. 

The gun went down. 

“Duff.” It was Malcolm, now on Duff’s side of the table. “We’re going to stop Macbeth. I promise. I  _ promise _ .” 

“You and me?” Duff asked weakly. Malcolm cupped his face with one hand. 

“You, and me, and -” 

“And me.” Duff looked up as Fleance stepped into view.

“ _ Fleance? _ ” 

“My dad taught me to swim.” Fleance said simply. 

The absurdity of the comment drew a snort out of Malcolm, and Duff started to laugh. Soon all three of them were laughing. 

“I’ve missed you.” Duff said, touching Malcolm’s hand after the laughter died down. Malcolm worked his way under Duff’s arm and wrapped him in a hug, eyes sparkling with tears.

“I’ve missed you too.” Malcolm said softly. 

At 8 PM, Lennox heard his doorbell ring. He quickly did a scan of his house. Nothing looked out of place. He checked the mirror. He looked alright. No, not alright. He adjusted his shirt, a little off the shoulder. There, now he was  _ sexy _ . 

He finally answered the door to Macbeth, in office clothes, and a bottle of wine. 

“Rosé ?” He offered with a small smile. 

“Oh, my favorite.” Lennox said. “I have glasses in the back. Come in.” He closed the door behind Macbeth, and brought him back to his bedroom.

“Oh?” Macbeth said teasingly. “Already? Take me to dinner first, Lennox.” 

“I think we’re long past that phase.” Lennox said, popping the cork on the bottle and pouring both glasses full. “Cheers.” 

Macbeth accepted his glass. “Cheers.” He said. They touched glasses and drank the wine. 

“How are you tonight?” Lennox asked, patting the bed. Macbeth sat down. 

“I’m well.” He said with a smile. “You look nice.” 

Lennox felt slightly upstaged by Macbeth’s suit, but he blushed anyways.

“You look better, actually. I should’ve worn my suit.” Lennox said. 

“Well, presumably it will come off.” Macbeth said. 

“Take me to dinner first.” Lennox said. Macbeth touched his face, then gently tugged him in for a kiss. 

When they broke apart, Lennox smiled, and then dragged Macbeth back in for another, suddenly hungry for Macbeth, Macbeth’s lips on his, Macbeth’s hands on his body. He tugged at Macbeth’s jacket, pulling it off. Macbeth gently, so very gently, eased Lennox onto his bed. 

“You sure know how to treat a man right.” Lennox said between kisses.

“I’ve had practice.” Macbeth assured him. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” 

_ And damn _ , Lennox thought as Macbeth kissed him again.  _ If that isn’t hot as hell I don’t know what is.  _


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hazel gets a pov because I love her a lot   
> warning for themes of inappropriate child abuse (it's not actually happening, though, because UNLIKE JO NESBO i prefer not to include that shit in my works)

Macbeth woke up in Lennox’s bed.

The room was a light blue shade, with white curtains, that let the sunlight in just right that set Lennox’s red hair on fire. It glowed with all the colors of a flame, and Macbeth was so tempted to run his hands through it. 

“Morning.” Lennox said sleepily. His eyes were still closed, and Macbeth felt him scooch closer. One finger touched the matching anchor - shaped scars on Macbeth’s chest. “We’re twinning.” 

“I guess we are.” Macbeth said, running one hand over Lennox’s shoulder, watching the way the light fell. The contrast between his skin and Lennox’s, who was pale, almost the color of his curtains. He supposed that was a disadvantage of living in the city all his life, as opposed to an orphanage in Fife. “I have to go now.” 

“Go where?” Lennox yawned, finally opening his eyes. “Work?” 

“Inverness.” Macbeth said. “I have to handle something there.” 

“Oh.” Lennox frowned. “Stay a little longer?” 

“I guess.” Macbeth said, pulling Lennox closer. “That works for me.” 

Hazel didn't expect to find anything in the incinerator of interest. 

She’d only asked for the break because every now and again she needed something to do to feel useful. Gowrie understood. So did everyone else except for the heads of Homicide, whoever they may be. 

And sometimes, Hazel liked to find bodies. 

But here she was, poking at the old incinerator, with her friends coming along for the ride. 

“This was definitely used in the past few days.” Hazel said, poking at the dial. 

“How can you tell?” Gowrie asked curiously. To anyone else, this would’ve sounded doubtful, but Hazel knew her cousin well enough that they wanted her to explain her reasoning, which she loved to do.

“It’s still warm. Plus there’s still smoke coming out of the chimney.” Hazel said. She threw it open. 

Ash. Some lead - like metal. And - 

“ _ Gold? _ ” Galloway asked curiously. 

“That’s cool.” Lothian said. “I’m taking it.” 

“Lothian.” Hazel said. “No.” 

“Lothian yes.” 

“This is crime scene evidence. Don’t touch it.” 

“I wanna….” He whined. “Hazel, please.” 

“Don’t tempt me.” Gowrie said. “What does this mean?” 

“Well the gold… there’s only a few bits of it. Gold tooth, perhaps?” Hazel said. 

“Makes sense.” Galloway chirped. “And the lead?” 

“Considering the way it fell…” Hazel traced the shape. “A crucifix.” 

“Like the one Angus wears?” Lothian said.    
“And the ashes, presumably, are Angus.” Hazel said. “I do love playing with corpses.” 

“You’re weird, Hazel.” Lothian said. “This is why we’re friends.” 

“Cause corpses…” Hazel said. 

“Are fun.” The other three chorused. 

“Now let’s get this information to Caithness.” Gowrie said. 

“Caithness?” Galloway asked. “Why don’t we just figure this out ourselves?” 

“No, yeah, that’s a better plan.” Hazel said. “We can do it ourselves.” 

“How is Lady?” Macbeth asked, looking at the sparse crowd at the Inverness. 

“She’s angry about the baby.” Jack said. “She won’t talk to anyone.” 

“I… Should I have really taken…” 

“Yes.” Jack said. “She needs to recover… whatever happened to her.” 

“Of course.” 

“You wouldn't happen to know, would you?” Jack asked worriedly. “She won’t talk about it.” 

“No.” Macbeth said. “I wish I did.” 

“Where were you last night?” Jack asked. Macbeth shook his head. 

“I had work.” Macbeth said. “I was very busy.” 

Silence. Jack nodded and went back to work. Macbeth wondered if Jack knew he was lying. 

“No, he was lying.” Hecate said. “He was for sure lying. He wasn’t at work.” 

“He went to Lennox’s house.” Silvestra said. Bonus once again let his eyes wander to Fabian, who was playing chess again, lounging on the couch. He moved a black piece, and Bonus noticed the black pieces were almost even with the white ones.

“So Macbeth is straying from his marriage bed.” Hecate said with a laugh. “This will be good. How  _ is _ Lady, by the way?” 

“Not well. Consuming copious amounts of drugs.” Bonus said. “She’s slipping, and I don’t know if Macbeth will be able to handle it when she does.” 

“Oh don’t worry, Bonus.” Hecate said with a smile. “We have a replacement if things go sour.” 

“Me?” Bonus asked. Silvestra laughed. 

“No, Bonus.” Hecate said. “That’s on a need - to - know basis.” 

“How are we gonna get back to town?” Duff asked. “We can’t just boat back.”    
“Why not?” Malcolm asked sleepily. His hair was down, grazing the oversized t-shirt he was wearing. It must have been Bodhild’s because it said “Pulp Viking Lesbians” in sharpie and nothing else. 

“You’re dead.” Duff said. “You’re also dead.” He pointed to Fleance, who had passed out on the couch. “And I’m a wanted fugitive.” 

“Fair, but consider.” Malcolm said, yawning again. “I’m the Chief Commissioner.” 

“Legally dead Chief Commissioner.” Duff reminded him. “To the world, you jumped off the docks.” Malcolm winced. “Sorry.” 

“No, you’re right.” Malcolm said. “Is there anywhere we could even hide out?” 

“I know a place.” Fleance piped up. Both turned to look at him. “My dad used to take me to this one hotel cause it had a pool. But they just give you room keys. It’s easy.” 

“Do you have a plan?” Duff asked. “Cause like I said, wanted fugitive.”

“I’ll get a room key.” Fleance said. “And you two climb up the fire escape. I know the room that connects, and it’s usually free.” 

“Oh.” Malcolm said. “But how do we get in?”

“We could always steal one of Bodhild’s cars -” 

“Ask me next time.” Bodhild piped up. “You have permission to  _ borrow _ one of my cars.” 

“Thank you.” Malcolm said to Bodhild. “So much.” 

“You’re welcome.” She smiled, and then ventured back downstairs.

“So we have a plan!” Duff said.

“We do.” Fleance said. “Let’s go save our shitty town!” 

“Macbeth?” Ross poked his head in. “Someone’s here to see you.”

“Who is it?” Macbeth asked. 

“It’s Lady.” Ross said. 

“Oh - Let her in!” Ross slipped out and Lady walked in, looking almost back to normal, in a long blue dress and a fur coat. 

“Lady!” Macbeth said with a smile. “You look lovely, my dear.” 

“And you look handsome as well.” Lady crooned. “I’ve been thinking.” 

“Yes?” Macbeth said as Lady sat right on his desk. 

“We need to get rid of Hecate.” She said. Macbeth balked. 

“What?!” 

“He has you under his power.” Lady said. “We can’t have that if we want you to be mayor.” 

“But Edward is mayor?” Macbeth said questioningly. “I can’t just - I can’t run for mayor. He’ll get re-elected.” 

“That’s where his dirty little secret comes in.” Lady said. “The boy he was with, his name is Edgar. And he really doesn’t look legal.” 

“How old is he?” 

“No idea. Edward locked his file down hard.” Lady said. “For his sake let’s hope he’s legal. For our sake, let’s hope he isn’t.” 

“You’re suggesting Edgar…” Macbeth felt sick. “Edward is…” 

“We could take mayoral office in his absence. And get Edgar hopefully safely away.” Lady said. “You’ll do good things as mayor, Macbeth.” 

“And Hecate?” Macbeth asked. 

“We’ll figure that out on our own.” Lady said. “But I have a few ideas.” 

The day Lady and Macbeth had met had started off as a normal day. 

Right until Jack, who worked at the blackjack table, had been taken hostage. One of Lady’s frequent customers, who was in debt to the Inverness, had taken Jack hostage and demanded his money back on grounds that Lady - and by extension her workers - were cheating him. 

Lady, being intelligent, had called the police before dealing with the customer. 

SWAT had arrived pretty quick, and Macbeth had started negotiations. 

“You’ll give me the money, and then you’ll go sky-high.” The customer snarled, a gun to Jack’s head. 

“Why do you think this casino cheated you?” Macbeth asked calmly. “Are you high on something?” 

There was no response. 

“I’ll tell you what.” Macbeth said. “We’ll play a game of blackjack. If you win, you’ll get your money, all of it, and if I win, you go home.” 

“She deals.” The customer jabbed one thumb at Lady. Lady dealt two cards to each player and tried to make sure her hands weren’t shaking. 

The customer flipped his cards over. Ace of clubs and a nine of hearts. 

Macbeth flipped his. The king of hearts and a six of diamonds.

“Hit.” Macbeth said. 

“You’ll bust, sweet sixteen.” The customer teased. Lady handed Macbeth another card. He looked at it. 

“I might not.” He said, tossing the card into the shadows. The customer turned to look and Macbeth threw a knife right into his eye. 

“Did you win?” Lady asked. Macbeth grabbed the card off the table. A queen of spades. 

“Guess not.” He said with a crooked smile. 

“And the bomb?” Macbeth blinked. 

“What bomb?”    
“He said he’d blow the place sky high.” Lady said. Understanding dawned on Macbeth’s face. 

“Hazel!” He called. “There’s a bomb!” 

“On it!” A woman with golden hair and rich dark skin ran past. She gave Lady a salute as she did, a wide smile on her face.

They found the bomb and Hazel managed to deactivate it in time, kept in a suitcase under fake gold bars in the bathroom. Lady’s eyes fell upon the board. 

The king of hearts and queen of spades. 

“Macbeth’s going to try and kill you.” Bonus said. 

“He can  _ try _ .” Hecate snorted. “Fabi, kid, are you seriously winning?” 

“Mhm!” Fabian chirped, playing with his bishop. “Play, grandma.” 

“Grandma?? Squirt, I am not that old.” Hecate said with an offended gasp. “Still young and beautiful enough to get  _ death threats _ .” 

“You’re funny.” Fabian said. “Check!” 

“Not so fast, squirt.” Hecate took the bishop with her queen. “Check.” 

“No!” Fabian wailed. “Aw man.” 

“It’s not checkmate, kid.” Hecate reminded, pinching his cheeks. Fabian laughed. “Remember, there’s always a way out. Check your board.” 

Fabian moved his king behind a bishop. 

“There you go.” Hecate said proudly. “You’re improving, kid!” 

“Hey, Hazel.” Hazel quickly slammed her files shut.

“Chief Commissioner.” She said. 

“You remember that bomb from Inverness?” Macbeth asked. Hazel’s hand automatically touched the left side of her face. “I - I’m sorry, I didn't mean -” 

“Seized goods.” Hazel said. “Why?” 

“Just - Just checking.” Macbeth said. “Struck by paranoia.” 

“Mhm.” Hazel said. Macbeth vanished and Hazel frowned. 

_ What the hell could he want a bomb for? _

Lennox liked to imagine what a life with Macbeth might be like. A life of pleasure and passion, he figured, but also of deep-rooted companionship. Macbeth would treat him right (in more ways than one), and he knew the man was fiercely loyal to those he cared for. Though, he remembered, that didn’t mean much anymore. 

He quickly reminded himself that Banquo had been a traitor, and Angus . . . Well Angus had lost his faith. There were times when Lennox felt his own faith slipping, and it frightened him. Why did Macbeth frighten him? 

Maybe if things had been different, maybe if neither of them were wrapped around Hecate’s finger, they could’ve had that life.

He took another hit, staring up at his ceiling. 

Maybe not. He hoped so. He hadn’t loved anyone as fiercely as Macbeth before. He had Sheila, in high school, but his feelings for her paled in comparison, and he was unsure what he was supposed to do. 

It was just like a high. Exhilarating, confusing, exciting. 

It would be fun if he wasn’t worried about the crash that happened after. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> macbeth blows up a building and hits duff where it hurts

Macbeth tapped his foot impatiently. Hecate was supposed to be here, almost five minutes ago. He considered the possibility he wasn’t into monetary gain like most, but Hecate had accepted the offer to meet. 

_ Maybe he’s just late _ . Macbeth thought, tapping the suitcase. It was ridiculously patterned. He thought it was gaudy, but it would do the job well. 

“Hello.” It was a few boys in suits. There was a bottle of wine in one’s hand. Neither looked familiar, so Macbeth shrugged and took a glass. 

5 minutes. 

Lady sat at the bar, sipping at a small drink. 

“Do you know the owner of this establishment?” A woman asked. Lady turned to look at her. She had lovely blonde curls, multiple diamond piercings in her ears, and deep red lipstick. She turned to look at Lady, a small smile on her face. “Is it you?” 

“It is, yes. Who might you be?” Lady asked. 

“You may call me…” She gave a giggle, one hand touching her face as if to let Lady in on a secret. “Mrs. Hand.” 

Lady felt her stomach drop. 

“H… Hecate?” She asked weakly. Hecate pressed one finger to her lips. 

“It might be.” She said. “I’m supposed to meet your boyfriend in the Obelisk so he can kill me, isn’t that right?” 

Lady nodded. 

“How did you -” She stammered. 

“Trade secret, Lady.” She said. “I see a lot of myself in you. We’re both self - made women, although I’m a bit more self - made.” She giggled, indulging in some sort of private joke. “I think we could’ve been friends in another life.”    
“Another life…” Lady murmured. 

“In another life, Lulach.” Hecate said. Lady felt her heart break. “That’s something you would say.” Hecate got up, and put a glass down on the counter. “It’s been a pleasure, Lady. I’ll see you soon, and hopefully Macbeth gets out of that building before it blows.” She patted Lady on the head.

2 minutes.

2 minutes until the building explodes. 

Hecate somehow knew about the bomb. He wasn’t coming. 

Macbeth threw open the room’s doors to the two boys. 

“This building’s going to explode!” He yelled. “Run if you want to survive!” He practically chased them down the stairs. “Go! Go!” 1 minute, thirty seconds. The door was 2 floors down. 

One minute. 

Thirty seconds. The doors were in sight. 

Five.

Four.    
Three.    
Two. 

One. Macbeth flung both boys out of the Obelisk and prepared for the explosion. 

Except… 

It didn't go off. Macbeth looked up. The building was fine. He slowly got up, and backed away. 

And  _ then  _ the building exploded. 

Caithness had called a day off. She needed a day of rest, and the members of Homicide seemed to be fine without her (i.e, she actually hadn’t seen any of them in two days). 

The first thing she did on her day off was take a nap, practically falling onto the bed face first. 

Her intention was to sleep in until 3 pm.

Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. She woke up an hour later to the phone ringing. She grabbed it. 

“Whassup.” She said. 

“ _ Is this… _ ” The caller heaved a long sigh. “ _ The titless wonder. _ ” 

Only  _ one _ person called Caithness the titless wonder. It was Duff. 

“Depends.” She said. “Is this the big footed booby?”

There was a silence, and then: “ _ Hotel room 420, in the Orkney Hotel. 3 pm. _ ” The call hung up. 

Caithness blinked, slowly lowering the phone. She checked the clock.

10 am. Enough time for a nap. 

“The Obelisk blew up?” Lennox asked. 

“Yeah.” Galloway said with a laugh. “It was  _ really cool _ .” 

“Only you would find a  _ building exploding _ really cool.” Lennox said, a pang of irrational worry in his stomach. “Do you know where Macbeth is?” 

“No.” Galloway frowned. “Fuck if I know where Macbeth is.” 

Lennox grabbed the phone, dialing in the number for the Inverness. 

“Hi.” He said, forcing his voice to be normal. “Is Macbeth available?” 

“ _ I can reach him _ .” The receptionist piped up. “ _ Hold on one moment. _ ” 

Lennox waited with bated breath until - 

“ _ Hi. _ ” Macbeth said. “ _ Who’s this? _ ” 

“It’s Lennox.” Lennox said. “I’m so glad you’re alright. I heard about the Obelisk -” 

“ _ I’m alright, Lennox. _ ” Macbeth replied. “ _ I’m alright. Don’t worry. _ ” 

“Thank god.” Lennox said. “Were you hurt?” 

“ _ No. No I wasn’t. _ ” Macbeth said. “ _ I’m alright. I won’t be in work today, though. _ ” 

“Alright.” Lennox said. “Thanks for answering.”    
“ _ No problem _ .” Macbeth hung up and Lennox allowed himself a smile. 

“Pleasure you could join us, Mr. Mayor.” Lady said. 

“The pleasure is all mine, Ma’am.” Edward said. “What are we playing?” 

“Blackjack.” Lady said. “I’ll deal.” She placed two cards on each person’s side of the table. Macbeth was fidgeting again. She decided to ignore it. 

“I heard you were running for re-election this year.” Lady said. 

“I am.” Edward said. “I don’t think I’ll have any contenders for another four years in office.” 

Lady smirked, putting two tokens on the table. Macbeth followed suit, and Edward copied him. 

“Actually, I think I’d like to run for mayor.” Macbeth said. “With your support, of course.” 

Edward laughed. “I’m not dropping out, Macbeth. Let me give you some advice. Wait for four years, and then you’ll have the support of the sitting mayor  _ and  _ the people.” 

Lady hated how condescending Edward sounded. It reminded her of customers she’d had in the past, who’d insisted she was unfit to run a casino just because she was a woman. 

It reminded her of Hecate. She spared a sideways glance to Macbeth, relieved he was alright.

“Well, it would be unfortunate.” Lady started as Macbeth flipped his cards. Sweet sixteen. “If something were to get out about the Mayor before the election.” 

Edward flipped his cards. Eighteen. “I’m unsure of what you mean.” 

“You know.” Lady said with a smile. “If word got out the Mayor was using a fifteen year old boy for his body. What’s his name, Macbeth?” She flipped over her cards. 

King of Spades. Ace. Blackjack. 

“Edgar.” Macbeth supplied. Edward’s face turned multiple shades of red. 

“Edgar.” Lady said. “A sweet boy, by all reports. You’ve been saying he’s...your valet?” She enjoyed watching Edward’s face. It reminded her of a tomato now. She took both his and Macbeth’s tokens delicately. 

“You won’t get me.” Edward snarled, standing up. “You hear me? You won’t get me!” 

“I think we already have.” Lady said. “House always wins.” 

Edward practically fled the room, and Lady allowed herself a smile.

“That went well.” Macbeth said. 

“Yes.” Lady said, one hand on Macbeth’s arm. “I think it did.” 

Caithness took a deep breath, and knocked on the door of room 420 -  _ 420 _ ? Duff knew she couldn’t resist that - three times. 

The door opened. Fleance stood inside.

“Fleance?” Caithness laughed. 

“Hi.” Fleance said, opening the door. Caithness stepped inside and closed the door behind her. 

Malcolm was in the room, and so was Duff. Duff was alright. Caithness let out a sigh of relief. 

“I knew you didn't kill your family.” She said. Duff smiled at her and they hugged.

“You came.” Duff said. “Thank you so much.” 

Caithness looked around the room, at the one single bed. 

“What is this, a goddamn orgy?” She asked. 

“Fleance is  _ nineteen! _ ” Malcolm squawked at the same time Fleance said “I sleep on the couch.”. Caithness laughed. 

“Wait, aren’t you dead?” She asked Malcolm. 

“I got better.” Malcolm shrugged. “Duff was pretty sure you’re trustworthy.” 

“Hell yes I’m trustworthy.” Caithness said. “I’m his best friend. What’s our plan?” 

“Well, we actually have one.” Malcolm said. “We just need your help.” 

“What do I need to do?” Caithness asked. 

Macbeth woke up to the phone ringing. He picked it up. 

“ _ This is Caithness _ .” Caithness said. “ _ We found a body, it might be Fleance but there’s a lot of waterlog. You knew him best so… _ ” She paused. “ _ It’s on the docks. _ ”

“I’ll…” Macbeth swallowed. “I’ll come see it.” 

He got up slowly. Breathed in. Breathed out. 

When he arrived at the docks, Caithness pointed him behind the shipping containers. How poetic, that this was also where Malcolm’s car was found. He caught a glimpse of the redheaded boy, Fabian, on one of the shipping containers. He waved. 

Macbeth shook his head, and went behind the containers.

There was a body under a sheet there. Macbeth lifted it up. 

A gun was pointed at his face. 

“You’re under arrest.” Duff said.

Duff slowly got up, keeping the gun pointed at Macbeth, whose face was pale. He was almost frozen. He grabbed Macbeth by the arms and forced a pair of handcuffs on him. 

“Now  _ walk _ .” Duff said, putting away his own gun and grabbing Macbeth. “You’re going to jail for a long, long, time.” 

“You aren’t going to shoot me, Duff?” Macbeth asked. 

“No.” Duff said.  _ Maybe I’m just sentimental _ . “We can’t solve a murder with more murders.” 

“When did you go soft, Duff?” Macbeth laughed. “The only way to solve  _ any _ problem is to  _ get rid of it. _ ” Duff flinched at his own words. 

“This is different than Forrenach.” Duff said. “I was  _ seven _ .” 

“This is pathetic.” Macbeth taunted. “You could kill him, but you can’t kill me? What is it  _ really _ , Duff? Sentiment? Pity?” 

“Shut  _ up! _ ” Duff yelled. 

“Come on, shoot your only friend!” Macbeth laughed. “Do it for Meredith!” 

“ _ Don’t _ say her name!” Duff hissed. 

“Meredith! Meredith!” Duff recoiled, and Macbeth took this opportunity to slam his head right into Duff’s face. 

“ _ FUCK! _ ” Duff yelled, clapping his hands to his now - broken nose. Macbeth ran off, nearly colliding with a man in a gray coat, who whisked him off. Duff could catch a flash of red hair.

“Did you get him?!” Fleance asked. 

Duff wiped his face with his coat sleeve, blood streaming from his nose. He could taste it, and it was disgusting. Almost as disgusting as he felt at this very moment. 

“Next time.” Fleance said reassuringly. 

_ There might not be a next time. _ Duff thought, face burning with humiliation.  _ And it’s all because of me. _


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lennox realizes he's the side hoe

“ _ Lennox? _ ” Macbeth asked as the redhead unhooked his handcuffs. 

“You looked like you were in trouble.” Lennox said. 

“How did you -” “Hecate.” Lennox interrupted. “I got a phone call, saying you might need assistance.” 

“Oh.” Macbeth said. “Thank you, Lennox.” 

“No problem.” Lennox said. “Do you want to come to my place or…” 

“Inverness.” Macbeth said. “I have to go to the Inverness.”    
“Oh…” Lennox said quietly. “Okay.” 

They were silent on the rest of the way home. 

It wasn’t like Duff thought of his time at the orphanage often. It showed up in his thoughts on occasion, but he tried to not think about it. 

Most of his memories around the time Forrenach (he’d insisted to all the kids there that they call him Forrenach  _ sir _ ) was murdered were hazy and disjointed, most likely due to the fact that he’d gotten clubbed with a frying pan and couldn’t see straight for an hour, much less have any sort of memory retaining. But he did remember the murder itself. 

He and Macbeth had come into the bedroom, careful to miss the creaky floorboards. Duff had been wearing fairy pajamas. He’d handed Macbeth the knife, and when Macbeth had insisted, in hushed whispers, that he couldn’t do it, Duff had snatched the knife and stabbed Forrenach straight in the mouth. 

He didn't remember exactly how he’d gotten to bed that night, but he’d woken up to police sirens, and Macbeth in a  _ panic _ . Someone had found Forrenach’s body before he’d woken up, and now the police were here. 

There was an interview of some sort, which Duff only half-remembered because he’d passed out mid answer and woken up in the hospital, finally getting his frying pan injury taken care of. 

But Macbeth had run away when he came back. 

The clear fuzziness proved that Duff clearly hadn’t been thinking straight, right? So his decision to kill Forrenach clearly wasn’t what he  _ really _ was? He’d spared Macbeth, who’d murdered his family. But that other Norse Rider -

“You’re awfully quiet.” Caithness said. Duff was startled out of his thoughts by Caithness joining him on the fire escape. 

“Thinking.” Duff said. “Caith, you’re my best friend.” 

“You know it.” Caithness said with a laugh. 

“So you of all people would know.” Duff said. “Am I a bad person?”

“What’s this about?” Caithness asked. 

“I could’ve killed Macbeth.” Duff said. “On the dock. I could’ve shot him. But I didn't, and now he could kill more people.” 

“But you didn't kill him.” Caithness said. “You had restraint.” 

“And…When I was little.” Duff said. “I got hit with a frying pan.” 

“You told me.” Caithness said. 

“And after I got hit with the frying pan I…” Duff let out a long breath. “I killed someone. And...I think that was…. That is who I am. That I’m a bad person.” 

“You’re not.” Caithness said. “You were probably concussed, and the fact that no one stopped you proved people around you didn't know better either.” 

“I still kill people.” Duff said. “Because -” 

“Duff.” Caithness said. “We all have blood on our hands. You’re not a bad person because of it.” 

_ I’m sure Malcolm doesn’t _ . Duff thought. 

“At the very least, I am no better than Macbeth.” Duff said. 

“Why did you kill the man when you were little?” Caithness asked. “Because the difference between you and Macbeth is you kill for other people, and Macbeth kills for himself.” 

Duff carefully didn't comment on the fact that Macbeth had killed for him, once. 

“Is Lady awake?” Macbeth asked. Jack shook his head. 

“She’s resting. What is it?” Jack asked. 

“So how… would one achieve a state of emergency?” Macbeth asked. 

“Well, if the town was without a mayor…?” Jack said questioningly. “Why?” 

“Nothing.” Macbeth said. “Not now at least. Did you hear of Edward?” 

“Yes, he’s still running.” Jack said. “And had an announcement… about your poker game.” 

“What did he say?” Macbeth asked, stomach dropping. 

“That Edgar was his grand-nephew.” Jack said. “And he was still running, no matter what certain parties wanted.” 

“Oh.” Macbeth said quietly. 

He should have felt angry. He should have been mad. 

But all he felt was cold hard determination. 

Because he knew what he had to do. 

“H - Have you heard from Angus?” Ross asked as Lennox entered. “Has  _ anyone  _ been able to -” 

“Ross.” Lennox said, taking Ross’ hands. “I promise you if we get a lead, I’ll tell you  _ immediately _ .” 

“But -” Ross started. “He said he was going to meet you -” 

“I… didn't see him.” Lennox said, light blue eyes darting everywhere. Ross’ eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry.” 

“Are you?” Ross asked, voice trembling. “Or was it convenient for you for Angus to disappear?!” 

“Ross!” Lennox squawked. “I -”    
“Say you didn't kill Angus.” Ross said, grabbing Lennox’ wrists. “ _ SAY IT! _ ” 

“I - I -” Lennox stammered. 

“You  _ did! _ ” Ross said, the realization hitting him. “You  _ killed Angus! _ ” 

“I didn't!!!” Lennox yowled. “Let -  _ go of me! _ ” 

Ross obeyed, with a loud sob. 

“Why did you kill him?” He asked. “Why?” 

“I didn't.” Lennox insisted. His voice was weak. “Ross. I’m sorry about Angus but -” 

“Tell me.” Ross said. “Lennox.  _ Please _ .” 

“I didn't.” Lennox said desperately. “Ross…” He let out a sob. “I can’t have.”

“I’m sorry.” Ross sobbed. “I miss him so bad…” 

“...I know.” Lennox said, sitting next to Ross and rubbing his shoulders. 

Ross cried into Lennox, unashamed of it. 

It was impossible. 

How did Hecate know about Lulach? 

She had never told a soul. Her baby. Her and Gille’s baby, who’d gotten sick, who’d coughed and coughed and coughed, until he couldn’t breathe anymore because the smog near Gille’s home was too thick. 

That had been the same night Gille had been shot. 

Maybe it was a personal vendetta, maybe he’d just happened to be in the way, but he’d been shot on his way home, and Lady had been left alone. 

But she’d never told  _ anyone _ about her last words to her son, or that he had existed at all. All she had was an urn with his ashes, and she had disguised it as decoration. But she hadn’t told anyone about Lulach -

Oh, but she did. 

She had told someone. She’d told one person, in her entire new life, about Lulach. 

She’d told Jack. 

“Auley, how good is your aim?” Macbeth asked. Auley snapped to attention, nails digging into the table. 

“Pretty good. Not as good as Banquo’s was, god rest his soul.” They said. “But I’m here because of my marksmanship so I’d assume it’s good.” Auley nervously rubbed their shoulder. Seyton had fixed their arm, made their aim even better than before, and anything was worth more than being shelved away with the rejects in Homicide. They’d almost been put there by Duncan, for the sheer virtue of using different pronouns, but Macbeth had brought them into SWAT, and Macbeth had Auley’s loyalty, not Duncan or Malcolm or even Seyton.

“Well good. You and Lennox need to do a job for me.” Macbeth said. 

“What is it?” Auley asked, grabbing for their gear. “I can do it, just, what is it?” 

“I need you to kill the mayor.” And  _ there _ was the catch.  _ There _ was another moral code Auley had to step over to prove their loyalty to Macbeth and not end up like Angus, who had disappeared. 

They wondered what Coira would think if she saw them now. Would she be proud? Or disgusted? 

Was a job worth their very - 

“Alright.” Auley said. “I’ll meet with Lennox.” 

“So we’re clear on the plan?” Auley asked. Lennox swallowed. Nodded. 

“How do you do this?” He asked them. “Does it get easier?” 

“Does what?” 

“Killing people.” Lennox said. “Does it get easier?” 

Auley paused. They swallowed. “I like to think it does.” They said at last. “But the plan -” 

“Yes.” Lennox said. “We’re clear.”

“Mind if I join?” Seyton’s voice was smooth, taut with a small amount of fury.

Auley rubbed their shoulder. “No.” They practically spat. Seyton smiled. 

“What’s our plan?” Seyton asked. “Lennox?” 

“I join Edward and his kid out of the hospital.” Lennox said slowly. “And Auley shoots the mayor.” 

“Easy.” Auley said. “Are you good now? Could you leave?”

“I’m going to watch.” Seyton said. “And make sure nothing goes wrong.” Auley sent Lennox a pleading look. Lennox averted his eyes. 

“I’ll go catch the mayor.” He said. He might’ve heard Auley let out a small whine, but when he turned back they pointed him out. 

The mayor and that kid that was following him around were leaving the hospital when Lennox caught up with them.

“Inspector Lennox!” Edward said. “What a surprise.” 

“May I walk with you?” Lennox said. “I know a quick way back to your car.” 

“I’m tired.” The boy groaned. “Please, Uncle?” 

“Fine.” Edward said. “Lead the way.” Lennox obeyed, leading the pair down the alleyway. 

“What brings you two to the hospital?” Lennox asked. 

“That’s -” The boy cut Edward off. 

“My dad’s sick.” He said. “Uncle’s taking care of me until my sisters arrive from Hungary.” 

“Oh.” Lennox said, lamenting this kid’s fate as an orphan. “When will they get here?” 

“A week now.” The boy said. “Margie is studying to be a teacher and Cristina is gonna be a nun.” 

“That’s exciting.” Lennox said, voice catching in his throat. “I -” He swallowed, and looked back at the boy and the mayor. He looked up, catching a glimpse of the clouds.

_ Macbeth’s going to kill me _ . He thought.  _ I shouldn’t be doing this _ . 

But still, he fell back, going in step with the mayor. 

“What is he  _ doing? _ ” Seyton looked over at Auley, who was watching their target with a confused expression. 

“What’s wrong?” Seyton demanded, taking the gun and lifting the scope to his eyes. “What the  _ hell _ is Lennox doing?! Why’s he in the line of fire like that?!”

“Maybe he’s just… maybe he’s just walking, sir?” Auley suggested. “It’s… Maybe just wait until they turn the corner?” 

“What are you doing?” Edward asked, voice low. 

“Someone…” Lennox paused. “Is trying to kill you.” 

“Ah.” Edward said, falling in step with Lennox. “Thank you, inspector Lennox.” 

“We’re almost to the car.” Lennox said. “So just keep in step with me.” 

“ _ WHAT  _ is he doing.” Seyton snarled. “Auley.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Shoot Lennox.” Seyton said. 

“Are you -”    
“Auley, you  _ know _ what is at stake if you don’t.  _ Shoot. Lennox _ .” Seyton snarled. 

Lennox felt the first bullet whizz by him and let out a yelp. 

“Go! Run!” He yelled. Edgar took off running, and then the second bullet hit him in the back. He collapsed, the blinding pain overwhelming his senses. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t - 

“Inspector Lennox?” Lennox dared to open one eye, The Mayor. 

“Turtle.” Lennox gasped out. 

“What?” 

“I’m…” He gasped, trying to move. “I’m your shell.” He was tugged over Edward, lifted off the ground and  _ oh god it burnt it hurt so bad _ . Lennox let out a yelp of pain. Nothing he’d ever felt before had hurt this bad. 

The very sound was fading in and out. He grabbed Edward’s shirt, trying to ground himself. 

He heard sounds of a struggle, gunfire, and he was taken off of Edward’s back. 

And stared straight into Duff’s face. 

“Lennox isn’t moving.” He said. “But he’s got a pulse.” 

Another voice, vaguely familiar, piped up. “Is he conscious?” 

“Paralyzed or in shock.” Duff said. “Seyton’s gone.” 

“And the other person…” Caithness? 

“Also gone.” Duff said. “Let’s get Lennox to the hospital.” His eyes were dark. Promising vengeance. 

So much like Macbeth’s. 

They had the same almost - black eyes, although Macbeth’s were a warmer shade of brown. Like coffee. Or chocolate. Macbeth’s eyes were eyes Lennox could melt in. 

Duff’s eyes looked like something Lennox would fall into forever. Cold and unforgiving. 

He wondered, as the darkness of Duff’s eyes consumed his vision, if Macbeth would be too mad at him for botching the job.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow...

Duff was sitting in the waiting room, slightly awkwardly. Malcolm, on the other hand, looked almost ecstatic, tapping his foot on the marble tile. Robert finally emerged from Lennox’s hospital room. 

“He’ll live.” He said. “He’s under some opioids right now, but he’ll be coming around soon.” 

Malcolm practically leapt from his chair, flinging his arms around Robert. Robert hugged Malcolm back, sobs escaping his throat as he pet Malcolm’s hair. 

“I missed you -” 

“I’m sorry -” 

“No, don’t apologize, come here -” 

“Oh god, I’ve -” 

“I know, me too -” 

“Robert.” Malcolm breathed, and Duff could see his eyes, glistening like they did when Duff had been in Capitol. 

Robert swept Malcolm into a kiss. They broke apart with a gasp.    
“I’m sorry I didn't let you speak.” Duff said. “Were you going to tell me about -” Robert nodded. “I’m -” 

“Come here you poor man.” Robert said, pulling Duff into the hug. Duff buried his face in Robert’s hospital scrubs, tears burning in his eyes.    
When he finally broke away from the three - way hug, he wiped his face, and took a breath. 

“I want to talk to Lennox.” He said. 

“Be gentle with him.” Robert said. “He’s on some painkillers, and is paralyzed from the waist down. You have to play nice. I’ll give you two minutes.” 

“I will.” Duff said. “I promise.” Robert nodded, and gestured to the door. Duff breathed in, breathed out, and opened the door. 

“Lennox?” He asked quietly. Lennox turned to look at him, then averted his gaze. 

“Listen, Lennox, I’ve only got two minutes, and -” 

“Macbeth’s behind this.” Lennox croaked. His voice sounded thick, like he was close to tears. 

“Okay.” Duff said, approaching Lennox’s hospital bed. “Then who’s Hecate’s informant?” 

“I’ll tell you…” Lennox said. He swallowed. “If you do me a favor.  _ I’m _ Hecate’s informant.” 

Duff recoiled, just a bit. 

“A favor. Put the pillow over my face and hold it there.” Lennox said. “And let me be a traitor, but a repentant one.” 

“I’m not going to kill you.” Duff said, approaching the bed again. “You - You’re helpless. I can’t do that.” 

Lennox let out a hazy sigh. 

“You’re the only one I know who might understand me, Duff.” He said at last, a bit of a slur in his voice. “That you can love someone  _ so much _ .” His voice cracked. “And still… betray them.” 

Duff looked down at his shoes. 

“You don’t really think you can make amends for everything, do you?” Lennox asked. 

“Maybe not.” Duff agreed. “But I can start by forgiving you.” 

“No!” Lennox said, forcing himself up. 

“Yes.” Duff said.    
“You can’t!” Lennox practically shrieked. “Don’t do that! Don’t…” He started to sob, arms buckling and sending him back to the bed. 

Duff slowly backed out of the room. 

Edgar was cold. And lost. And more than a little scared.    
Sure, his Uncle was the mayor, and that was very political, but he’d never expected that someone would try and  _ kill _ him! And the inspector with the red hair had told him to run. So he ran. And here he was. The town was different from Hungary, and Edgar was very lost. 

He ducked into a shipping container, taking a few breaths to calm himself down. He could barely hear anything over the beating of his own heart. He wished Margaret were here. She would know what to do. 

“Hello…?” A slithering sinister voice called from somewhere outside of the shipping container. “Are you here, little one?” Edgar clapped his hands over his mouth. He didn't dare breathe. 

“I can smell your fear.” The voice continued. “It’s delicious.” Edgar swallowed, hard. He wished even harder for Margaret or Cristina. 

“Are you in… this one?”  _ BANG! _ Edgar nearly screamed as another container was flung open nearby. “Guess not. How about…  _ this _ one!”  **_BANG!_ ** Closer now. Edgar felt tears burn in his eyes. He didn't scream. He wouldn't scream. “Or… this one?”  **_BANG!!_ ** One container down. Edgar let out a whimper. 

“This one…?” The door creaked open. The man was too tall, too bent, too awkward. His eyes glowed and his smile seemed too wide. Edgar tugged his legs tighter to himself. 

“There you are.” The creepy man crooned.

“I’m just -” Edward sighed. “Worried about Edgar, is all.” Caithness resisted the urge to smack the mayor. He wasn’t concerned at all until Fleance had mentioned Seyton had been seen going after Edgar. If  _ she  _ had children, even ones she was tangentially responsible for, she would have been concerned even  _ before _ the creepy police officer was seen chasing them. 

If she ever  _ saw _ Seyton again she’d stab him through his stupid bald head. 

She was tempted to stab the mayor as well, but held herself back. 

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Caithness deadpanned for the 30th time. 

“I honestly doubt that.” Duff said with a long sigh. “Seyton’s a straight up sadist.” 

“Not helpful.” Caithness said. “I swear to god. I’m going home.” 

“Fair.” Duff said with a yawn. 

“Fleance?” Caithness offered. “Me and Menteith have a spare couch you could crash on. Fleance gave her a grateful smile. 

“Thanks.” He said with a yawn. 

“We’ll meet again tomorrow at my house?” Malcolm said. Everyone nodded in agreement and went their separate ways. Caithness took Fleance’s hand, and led him to her car. 

He fell asleep on the way there. 

“The mayor’s still alive.” Macbeth jumped, nearly falling out of his office chair. 

“ _ What?! _ ” He hissed. 

“Lennox got in the way.” Seyton said nonchalantly. “We got something else.” He pulled in the blonde boy from the funeral, now sporting a black eye. His eyes were shiny with tears and he whimpered quietly. 

“What happened to Lennox?” Macbeth demanded, a cold pit in his stomach. 

“Shot.” Seyton dismissed. “He was in the w - where are you  _ going? _ ” 

“Hospital.” Macbeth grunted. “Put the kid in the SWAT basement. Make sure he  _ stays  _ there.” 

He hopped into his car, and drove to the hospital. 

“Lennox?” He asked the curly-haired nurse. He looked familiar. Macbeth saw his tag - Robert, it said, like Malcolm’s Robert - and then tried to meet his eyes. “Where’s - Where’s Lennox?” 

“Room 201.” The nurse said. Macbeth shoved past him, found the door, and almost threw it open. 

Lennox was on the bed. Still. Lifeless. Unmoving. 

“Lennox?” Macbeth went to his side, watching his prone form. For one horrible moment, Macbeth thought Lennox was dead.

But then Lennox’s chest rose and fell, and Macbeth breathed a sigh of relief. He was just asleep. 

But why wasn’t he waking up? He was sure he’d made lots of noise, and Lennox had sharp ears.

“He’s on  _ painkillers _ .” The nurse said. “Really heavy painkillers.” 

“Why?” 

“He’s been paralyzed from the waist down.” The nurse said. “We had to administer the painkillers.” 

“Will he be okay?” Macbeth asked. 

“I believe so.” Robert said. “Although he’ll never walk again.” Macbeth brushed Lennox’s hair out of his face. 

“Leave.” He ordered. The nurse vanished and Macbeth sat down in a chair next to Lennox’s hospital bed. 

“Why did you  _ do  _ that?” Macbeth asked, taking one of Lennox’s hands. “Why would you do that…” 

Lennox didn't respond, still asleep. Macbeth sighed, leaned over, and kissed Lennox on the forehead. 

And then he left. He was going back to the Inverness. He had to go back to the Inverness and think about what to do next. 

“That wasn’t supposed to happen.” Fabian said, fiddling with the radio. “Lennox just stopped the whole state of Emergency plan.” 

“I honestly never thought it would work.” Hecate said, reclining in her chair. “But no, this is very good for my backup plan.” 

“Your what?” Fabian asked. 

“Remember, you need backup plans.” Hecate said. “Make sure everything goes your way.” 

“But what does Edward’s survival have to do with -” Hecate raised an eyebrow. “Do I need to ask?” 

“We’ll figure it out.” Hecate said. “I’ll explain it to you if you don’t get it. Try and figure it out, kiddo.” 

Fabian bit his lip, and rubbed his shoulder, beginning to think.

“It doesn’t make sense.” Lady said, staring at her own reflection. “How she’d know.” 

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” Jack said. Lady sighed. “Maybe it was some of the cleaning staff?” 

“Really?” Lady asked, eyes wet. 

“Or maybe Siward’s boy. He found out about his father and wanted to spite you.” Jack said. “I’ll have him fired if you -” 

“No.” Lady said because she knew it wasn’t Os, who’d spent most of his time at the casino tripping over himself, terrified of approaching her. “I don’t want to think about it. I need -” 

“What, Ma’am?” 

“I need enough drugs to take me far away.” Lady said quietly. “Could you get that for me, Jack?” 

“I can, Ma’am.” He slipped out of the room. 

“I’m sure you can, Jack Bonus.” Lady murmured to herself, a tear slipping down her face. “Go run along to Hecate.” 

“Where’s Lady?” Macbeth asked, rubbing his eyes. He hadn’t gotten much sleep at all last night. He had a dream last night, that he could vaguely remember… 

Duff had been there…. 

“She’s resting.” Jack said. “Should I call her down?” 

He felt awkward. Off - centre. There was something wrong.

“I’m going to go get her.” He said. He went into the elevator. Pressed the button to their floor. 

The ride was long and silent. Exhausting. Worrying. Macbeth walked slowly down the hall. 

The door felt almost heavy, sucking in all the light. Macbeth breathed, and pushed it open, gently. 

Lady was laying on the bed, a needle in her arm. Too still, too pale, too lifeless. 

There was a piece of paper next to the bed. Macbeth picked it up, looking it over. 

**_Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day, and all our yesterdays have lighted fools to dusty death._ **

Lennox woke up to Ross in his hospital room. 

“Hey.” Ross said quietly. 

“Hey.” Lennox croaked. 

“That was really brave of you.” Ross said gently. “Saving the mayor like that.” 

Lennox let out a small sob. 

“Ross, I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m so sorry about Angus -” 

“I knew you did it.” Ross said, face closing off. “You’re a bad liar.” 

“I’m sorry.” Lennox said with a sob. “I shouldn’t have - but I was high and -” 

“Lennox.” Ross said. “I just… Lennox listen to me. I know the effect Macbeth has on people.”

“I still -” Lennox started. 

“I don’t blame you as much as I blame Macbeth.” Ross said. “Does that help, a bit?” 

“Yeah.” Lennox said quietly. “It does. You’re a good friend, Ross.” 

“You’re a good boss.” Ross replied. He stood up, and Lennox reached, quickly, then yanked his hand back. 

“I don’t want to be selfish, but.” Lennox paused. “Would you stay a little longer?” 

Ross sat back down and gave Lennox a smile. 

Ross’ eyes were brown too, a deep, rich, brown. They weren’t cold, like Duff’s, or sweet and deep, like Macbeth’s, but they were soft, like a warm wooden chair, like a sun - warmed wooden swing. Supportive and sturdy. 

Maybe that’s what Lennox truly needed. Not to melt and sink into someone else, but to be supported. 

“We’re going to the Inverness.” Macbeth said. Seyton grabbed Edgar by the chain - dear god, where did he get a  _ chain _ \- and stood up. 

“Why the Inverness?” Auley asked. 

“Easier to defend.” Macbeth said. “I’ve got an announcement to make, and I’ll meet you both at the Inverness.” 

The bed was warm, the blankets warmer, and the bodies on both side of Malcolm were warmest. 

And yet he was awake. He could vaguely hear the radio - that’s right, Julia liked to have the radio on - and someone’s voice was coming through. Familiar, even though it was through two walls. He slid out of bed, careful not to disturb Robert and Duff, and went to the radio, rubbing the wide v -shaped scar on his collarbone to ground himself in the suddenly - cold room. 

“ _ By tomorrow morning, if Edward does not put the town into a state of emergency _ .” Macbeth. Malcolm felt cold, and he wrapped his arms around himself, fingers grazing the long gash on his left arm. “ _ I will kill his nephew _ .” 

“Oh, fuck.” Malcolm mumbled. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lennox ;-; (chapter dedicated to all lennox fans I'm sorry)

“That’s bad.” Mentieith said. “If the town is put into a state of emergency -”    
“I am  _ aware. _ ” Malcolm said, squeezing Duff’s arm tightly. “It’s bad.  _ Bad _ .” 

“But Edgar.” Caithness said. “That’s a kid. We can’t just let him  _ die _ . If it was  _ Julia _ -” 

“I would burn down the  _ world _ for Julia.” Malcolm said quickly. “And this child won’t die.” 

“He won’t.” Duff interjected. “I know Macbeth. He won’t kill a child.” Everyone turned to look at him.

“I know.” Duff said. “He killed people. He  _ killed my kids _ , but he didn't. SWAT killed my family, The Norse Riders killed Banquo and Siward. He never did it himself.” 

“Huh.” Fleance said at last. 

“We’re not taking chances with a child’s life.” Malcolm said. “We need to somehow get into the police station and save Edgar before tomorrow morning.” 

“Alright.” Duff said. “Maybe we could talk to Lennox?” 

“Or Ross.” Caithness said. “He’s got the best memory I’ve ever seen.” 

“Right then.” Malcolm said. “Someone get in contact with Ross, and we’ll try to get in.” 

“Ross.” Ross put the phone down. Lennox was awake again, ice - blue eyes hazy thanks to the painkillers. He’d just finished a call with Caithness, telling her how to get into the station. 

“Yes?” Ross asked. 

“I have…” His voice was thick, slurred. “I have something to do.” 

“Yes. Rest.” Ross said. “You were shot in the back.” 

“No.” Lennox struggled to push himself upright. “It’s important. Ross, please.” 

“What is it?” Ross asked. Lennox gave a shaky smile. 

“I can’t tell you.” He said. “I just need you to do two things for me and…” He took a shuddering breath. “I’ll tell you what we did with Angus’ body.”    
Ross’ breath caught in his throat. 

“Where?” He asked, voice wobbling. 

“Me and Seyton…” Lennox stammered. “Ran it through the incinerator.”

Ross nodded. Swallowed. 

“Oh.” He said quietly. “I see.” 

“I -”    
“ _ Don’t _ .” Ross said. “I’ll help you. What do you need?” Lennox gave Ross a watery smile. 

“You know that ashtray in my office?” 

“What the  _ fuck? _ Nothing?” Menteith asked, examining the Chief Commissioner’s office. “Nothing at all! No one’s here!” 

“Where could they  _ be _ then?” Duff asked. “I just - where did he go? This place is the safest -” 

“Is it though?” Malcolm asked, pointing to the window. 

Duff looked outside. Bertha, on the plinth, and to her right -

“The Inverness.” Duff’s heart sank. “It’s basically a fortress. How are we going to get in?” 

“We could always use the old SWAT vehicle.” Caithness said. “But…” 

“SWAT is with Macbeth.” Menteith said. Then an idea hit her. 

“Caith.” She said. 

“Absolutely not.” Caithness said. “No.”    
“Hazel.” She said. 

“ _ No. _ ” Caithness said. 

“You rang?” It was Hazel. Menteith smiled. 

“Do you have access to that SWAT van?” She asked with a smile. Hazel’s face twisted into a genuine smile. 

“I do.” She said. 

“Are you sure this is safe?” Ross asked, wheeling Lennox to the train station. 

“Don’t worry, Ross.” Lennox said. “You go to find Angus’ ashes.” 

“Thank you.” Ross said. “For being honest.” Those warm eyes filled with tears, and Lennox took Ross’ hand. 

“You’re a better man than I will ever be.” Lennox said. Ross gave Lennox a weak smile. It trembled, like a dewdrop on a leaf. 

“Go.” Lennox said. Ross nodded, and walked off. Lennox watched him go. 

“You’re alive.” Silvestra said with a smile. Fabian was at her side. Lennox briefly felt bad about Fabian’s involvement. He’d been too young to know better. 

“I want a fix.” He said. Silvestra eyed the wheelchair, then shrugged and nodded, putting the blindfold and earplugs in Lennox’s lap. He put them in, and then tied the blindfold. And then Lennox felt Silvestra lift him up. He let out a cry of pain as he was hoisted, then his position was adjusted and he wasn’t in pain anymore. He clung to Silvestra’s blouse like an infant as he felt her walk only a short distance, then down some stairs and - 

_ Of course _ the base was in the goddamn station. Lennox cursed himself as he was settled back in his wheelchair. One hand went to the hidden pocket. Breathe in. Breathe out. 

“I’ll bite.” Fabian said, pushing his rook 3 spaces further. “What’s your grand master plan.” 

“You couldn’t figure it out?” Hecate asked, moving her bishop, and promptly being taken by Fabian’s knight. 

“I really can’t see it.” He said with a shrug, moving his  _ second _ rook, boxing in Hecate’s king. “Lady’s dead, according to Bonus.” Bonus waved from his spot where he was reading a book on fine wines. “And Macbeth is… what’s the word?” 

“Untethered?” Hecate mused, rolling her remaining knight between her hands.

“Yes.” Fabian said. “So who -” 

“Lennox.” Hecate said. “The hero who saved the mayor.” 

“What about Malcolm?” Fabian asked. 

“Accidents happen.” Hecate said with a shrug. “We’ll take care of it.” 

“Checkmate!” Fabian said, moving his queen. 

“Ah! The student becomes the master.” Hecate laughed. She stood up and stretched. “Come on, kid, let’s go.” Fabian eagerly went up the stairs. 

“I was promised an ice cream.” He said, practically bouncing. 

“You’ll get your ice cream.” Hecate said. 

“Wait.” Lennox said. The needle paused, and Lennox tugged the string on his longtime desk decoration. “Now.” The needle went in, and Lennox relaxed, letting his arm go slack and the grenade tumble across the floor. The high’s effects were immediate. It was almost  _ almost _ that perfect high he’d been chasing since high school.

“What the hell was that?” It was the receptionist from the Inverness. Bonus. 

“It might be a model 24 Stielhand grenade.” Lennox said blissfully. 

“Or an ashtr-” 

“What the  _ hell _ was that?!” Seyton yelled, grabbing his chair. 

“No idea.” Macbeth said. He could see smoke rising from the direction of the train station. “Auley, what do you see?” He asked into the radio. 

“Smoke.” Auley replied from the top floor. “And -  _ Is that our car?? _ ” Macbeth looked out of the windows. 

It was, indeed, the SWAT car, parked in front of the Inverness. 

“ **HAZEL?!** ” Auley asked. Macbeth could see Hazel’s distinctive gold hair. 

“And they’ve finally arrived.” Macbeth sighed. “Seyton. Time.” 

“Four PM.” He said. 

“It’s going to get dark soon.” Duff said. “No one will be able to shoot.”    
“Or stab.” Galloway said with a pout, because of course, where Hazel went, her colleagues followed. 

“I don’t intend on shooting unless they start it.” Malcolm said, taking a megaphone out of his bag. “I’m here for their surrender.” He lifted the megaphone to his mouth, Robert giving him a comforting squeeze on the shoulder before he went to help Caithness and Galloway.

“ _ Macbeth! _ ” Malcolm called. “ _ We only ask for your surrender! Lay down your weapons, and come outside the Inverness with the boy! You will be allowed a fair trial, as is your right. _ ” 

There was no response. Malcolm checked the megaphone’s volume, and repeated himself. 

“What’s he saying?” Macbeth asked. 

“The usual.” Auley said. “What do I do?” 

“Auley?” Macbeth said. “Shut him up.” 

“Alright.” Auley said nervously. “I’ll shut him up.” 

Malcolm had started in on his fourth repetition when a loud  _ bang _ rang out. 

The megaphone skidded out of his hands as he fell to the ground. 

“Malcolm!!” Robert yelped, pulling Malcolm to his feet. “Malcolm, are you hurt?!” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Malcolm said, gripping his coat tightly with one hand and clinging to Robert with the other, grip so tight Robert could feel his bones grinding together. “It hit the megaphone. That was all.” 

“Why is Malcolm still alive?!” Seyton asked with a snarl. 

“If we kill him, we’ll give the people something to rally behind.” Macbeth explained. “Now he can’t speak.” 

“Right.” Malcolm said. “How are we going to get into the Inverness?” 

“Ram the goddamn door down!” Hazel suggested with a triumphant fist held high in the air. 

“You’d fucking die.” Gowrie interjected. “The car isn’t solid enough.”

“No, but -” Duff turned, looking to Bertha Birnam. “The train is.” 

“Holy shit that’s  _ genius _ .” Robert said. 

“Okay. Duff, you and…” Malcolm looked around quickly. His face was pale and he was still clinging to his jacket. “Caithness. You and Caithness get on the train and try to get it working, Hazel, be ready to ram the plinth and knock her onto the tracks.” 

“Fuck yes.” Hazel said. 

“Alright team, break.” 

The radio crackled on at the same time Auley came downstairs, tapping their foot nervously. 

“What are they doing?” Macbeth asked. 

“I don’t know.” Auley said. 

“ _ Citizens of this town _ .” It was Edward. “ _ This morning I received an impossible deal. _ ” 

“What the -”    
Edgar had hidden under a table, eyes wide. 

“ _ And I’ve made my choice. I’m sorry, Edgar, but the freedom of this town is important. Long live the people. _ ” 

“FUCK THAT NOISE!!” Caithness yelled from her spot in the train. “Hazel! Hit the goddamn supports! We’re saving this kid!” 

“Come on, old woman.” Duff yelled, pounding the dash. “Come to life for me!” He heard the van rev up, and then the dash lit up as Bertha Birnam let out a groan.

“YES!!” Duff yelled. “Caith, hold on tight!” 

“Auley.” Seyton said. “Kill it.” 

Auley stood stock - still. “No.” They said at last, dropping their gun. “I’ve caused enough death.” 

“You know the consequences for this.” Seyton hissed. “You have one last chance.” 

“You’re not the lord of me now.” Auley said. “I am not killing this child.” 

“Coward!” Seyton yelled. “You  _ disgust  _ me!” Auley flinched back, hand gripping their shoulder. “I can’t believe -” 

Macbeth threw the knife, hitting Seyton dead in the throat. He pulled it out. 

“Silver…” Auley said. “Silver kills those things.” 

“Yes.” Macbeth said. “It does.” 

There was a tiny creak, downstairs. 

The sound of oversized shoes. 

“Duff.” Macbeth said. 

“You sure this is safe?” Fleance asked quietly.

“Positive.” Osbjorn said. “Swear on my dad’s grave.” Fleance winced. 

“You know, I’m pretty sure Macbeth was -” 

“I don’t need an emotional breakdown in the middle of a  _ stealth _ mission.” Osbjorn interrupted. “Especially since you  _ crawled in here through the vents _ making a  _ shit  _ ton of noise I have  _ no  _ idea how we aren’t caught yet.” 

“Hey, my dad was SWAT.” Fleance said. “I know what I’m doing.” 

“Bang.” The sound of a familiar voice made Fleance freeze. Osbjorn mimicked him, muttering “Oh, fuck.” under his breath. 

“You’re dead.” Macbeth stepped out of the shadows. “Both of you. I expected Duff.” 

“You killed my dad.” Fleance said. 

“Don’t do it Fleance.” Macbeth said. Fleance grabbed his gun. Macbeth fired, knocking Fleance into Osbjorn, who hit the wall with a crack that made Fleance wince. 

He tried to get up, but Macbeth pressed one boot on his chest. 

“Stay down, Fleance.” He said, venturing away. Fleance tried to get up, but an explosion of pain hit him when he tried to move. He felt like he was back in the canal, sinking beneath the water, and so, so, cold. 

The train lurched, and Caithness grabbed on tightly to Duff’s arm, nails digging into his skin. Duff sent a silent prayer for his and Caith’s safety as Hazel backed up and  _ rammed  _ the supports once more, sending the train onto the tracks. The train roared to life, headed for the Inverness. 

“Macbeth!!” Auley yelled. 

“What?!” Macbeth demanded. 

“Bertha Birnam!” Auley pointed out the window. Macbeth looked, watching the train speed straight for the Inverness. 

_ You won’t be unseated until Bertha Birnam comes to the Inverness _ . 

“Oh god.” Macbeth muttered. “ _ Run! _ ” 

“DUFF!!” Caithness yelled as the train picked up speed. 

“YES?” Duff called back

“IF WE DIE BECAUSE OF YOUR FUCKDUMB PLAN I AM KILLING YOU MYSELF!!” Caithness responded. 

“FAIR ENOU-” The train hit the Inverness at full speed. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes... auley gets 2 go home and also sorry all hecate fans ever

The almost evening sky fell through the now - giant hole in the walls of the Inverness, lighting up the tables in a smoky sort of purple light. 

Auley coughed, clinging to a railing for support. Their shoulder hurt again, the price of going back on their deal with Seyton. They were useless again, unable to shoot. 

But, they considered, they had feeling back, their soul back. 

They went to the elevator, miraculously untouched, and hit the button for the bottom floor. 

They were going to go home to Coira. And retire. Definitely retire. The last glimpse of the day’s sun shone on their face. 

It was warm.

“Pst.” Edgar uncovered his face, peering curiously at the dusty room around him. There was a hole in the wall. There was a boy in the shadows. 

“Hi.” He said. 

The boy pressed one finger to his lips. Edgar nodded and mimicked him. A key slid across the floor, and Edgar pulled it closer with his sneaker, grabbed it with his free hand, and quickly freed himself, crawling slowly over to the other boy. 

There was blood on his side. He was holding his side with one hand. It had been tied with a suit jacket, although not very tightly as a sort of tourniquet. 

“Thank you for saving me.” Edgar said. 

“You’re welcome.” The other boy said as Edgar scrambled to his feet. There was yet  _ another _ boy further down. 

“Let’s get out of here.” The second boy said, taking one of the first boy’s arms and draping it over his shoulders, putting his arm around the others’ side. “You coming with, Edgar?” 

“Mhm.” Edgar said. “Sorry.” 

Together, the three of them made their way to an exit.

Duff stepped out of the train, coughing in the musty air. 

“I cannot believe we’re alive.” Caithness said. “I  _ cannot believe _ that actually worked.” 

“I know.” Duff said, slightly gleefully. “But it  _ did _ .” 

“Don’t shoot!” Another voice said. It was Fleance, draped over another boy’s shoulders, with Edgar following behind. Duff could see Caithness’ face light up as she hopped off the train to the boys. 

“Take them to the hospital.” Duff ordered. “I’ll find Macbeth.” Caithness nodded, and Duff climbed down the train, poking through the rubble with his shoes.

“Your shoes are too big.” A hoarse voice croaked. Duff spun, pointing his gun. 

Macbeth was pinned to the ground under a chandelier. He tried to push it off, but to no avail. It was much too big for him. 

“Huh.” Duff said at last. “I didn't expect this.” He sat down at the roulette table Macbeth was pinned under, touching the expensive wood of the wheel. He gave it a hard spin. 

“Are you going to kill me, Duff?” Macbeth muttered. 

“No.” Duff said. “I’m going to wait for the others to get here, and you’ll go to jail for a long, long, time.” 

Macbeth laughed. “You couldn’t kill me anyways.” He said. “You were born of woman.” 

Duff blinked, hand going to the scar on his face. 

“You never asked how I got this.” He said. 

Macbeth blinked. “I’d assumed it was from Forrenach.” 

“My mother.” Duff said. “She was a police officer assigned to take down the Norse Riders in their prime.” 

“I don’t see what this has to do with anything.” Macbeth said with a derisive snort. 

“She got cornered by Svein.” Duff continued. “I actually don’t know, but he, or someone with a sword, sliced her stomach open.” Macbeth’s face went pale. “With me inside, yes.” Duff said. “I was lucky that someone found me in time.” 

“That’s -” Macbeth’s mouth opened and shut. 

“So I could kill you.” Duff said. “I just choose not to.”    
Macbeth scoffed, color returning to his face. “You’re just a coward, then.” 

“I’m not.” Duff said, face heating up. “I’m  _ not _ a coward.” 

“You’re going to kill me. Look at yourself. You’re barely keeping down that murderous rage.” 

“Make up your mind, am I going to kill you or not?!” Duff snapped. Macbeth laughed. 

“Do it for Meredith!” He sang. “Or do it before Auley kills you.” 

“I highly doubt Auley is even here.” Duff said. “They’ve always had a good sense of self preservation.” 

“Are you just going to keep  _ blithering on _ or are you going to do the manly thing?!” Macbeth practically roared. “Are you going to cower behind your words like a child!?” 

“I guess.” Duff said. 

“I’ll just kill you then.” Macbeth said as the roulette wheel started to slow. One hand slipped beneath his jacket. 

_ Throwing knife _ . Duff thought, and his hand moved on impulse, shooting Macbeth through the chest. The wheel was spinning slower and slower, the marble in it dancing. Duff lifted Macbeth’s jacket, tentatively, and his heart sank. There was nothing. 

The marble bumped it’s way into the green section of the wheel. 

House takes all. No one wins. 

“Malcolm?” Robert asked. “Do you have any communication with Duff and Caithness?” 

Malcolm shook his head, looking alarmingly pale, and swaying on his feet. 

“Are you alright?” Robert asked, more worried. “Malcolm, are you hurt?”    
“No.” Malcolm said, before falling forwards into a dead faint. Robert caught him, feeling a wet sticky patch on his jacket. 

_ It didn't “only hit the megaphone” did it? _ Robert thought, adrenaline shooting through him like a - well - bullet.  _ Why didn't you say something? Why do you do this to yourself? _

“Is there an ambulance?” It was Caithness, with Fleance and a boy with Inverness clothes. Fleance was also swaying badly. Another bullet wound. 

“We need an ambulance!” Robert yelled, putting one hand under Malcolm’s jacket, over the bullet wound.  _ Keep pressure on it _ . He thought.  _ Fuck, why didn't I notice? _

The blast had nearly sent Fabian flying, but he’d managed to somehow trip over something and was merely knocked out. 

He came to a few minutes - it felt like minutes - later. The station was destroyed. He was near-buried under the chunks of rubble, but he pushed his way out, forcing himself into the air. 

It occurred to him after he pulled his legs free - one felt broken - that he didn’t hear anything.

“Hecate?!” He called. “Silvestra?!” No response. The panic amplified. “ _ HECATE?! _ ” 

“Fabian?” A raspy voice drew his attention. 

He stood up, and limped over. Hecate was alive, but barely. There was a series of jagged gashes on her midsection, and there was blood, blood staining her fur coat, the ground beneath her.

“There you are...” She smiled weakly, then coughed, blood as red as her lipstick dripping from her mouth. 

“I -I can carry you -“ Fabian said. “To the hospital.” 

“Kiddo... you’re not strong enough for that...” She chuckled. “You can’t even hold a wine bottle...for too long... much less me...” 

“I can’t leave you here to DIE!!” Fabian wailed. 

“Kiddo...” 

“No, stop, let me help.” Ignoring the tears, Fabian started pushing rubble off of Hecate. “I won’t let you die, Hecate! I can’t!” 

“Fabi.” Hecate grabbed his wrist. “You have to.” 

“No!!!” 

“Fabian.” She said firmly. “It’s your time... This is what I saw in you when you were seven... someone willing to see your goals through... You’ve grown so much...” She coughed.

“I -” Fabian sniffled. “You can’t go…I don’t want you to go…” 

“I’m with you… always.” Hecate said, brushing his face with her hand. He grabbed it, holding it weakly. “Love you, kid.”

Her hand went limp in his. 

Fabian took a shaky breath, then started to howl. 

Duff practically threw open the door, Malcolm letting out a squeak, and Robert nearly losing his clipboard. 

“I’m  _ fine! _ ” Malcolm said with a smile. “I’m alright, Duff.” 

“If I’d lost you -” Duff started, grabbing Malcolm’s hand. “I swear, I -”

“I’m alright.” Malcolm repeated. “I’m okay.” Duff hugged him. 

“Thank god.” He said. “You’re Chief Commissioner now, you can’t just die on me.” 

“Die on  _ us _ .” Robert interjected. “No one’s dying.” Duff opened his hug to Robert, who inserted himself gratefully. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> epilogue!

The sky was dark, speckled with clouds and stars. The city below was full of light and activity. The train sped past, recently re-opened as a result of the town’s new businesses. The previous mayor, Edward, had been outvoted in the mayoral election by an up - and - coming politician named Harold Godwinsson, who, along with Chief Commissioner Malcolm, had been able to start the town up again, making it bigger and better. The former Inverness Casino had become a homeless shelter, the Obelisk had been rebuilt as a library. For all intents and purposes, the town was clean. 

“Disgusting, isn’t it.” Fabian said. “We leave for  _ four years _ and the town goes to shit.” 

“You seem confident.” The baritone voice of Svein filled the air. 

“I learned from the best.” Fabian said, playing with the pearl necklace he’d taken off Hecate. “I’ve also got good allies.” 

“We could have set up shop anywhere else.” Silvestra said. “Why here?” 

Fabian watched the train come back. 

“This town’s a shithole.” Silvestra continued. 

“This town took my mother from me.” Fabian said. “And Svein’s whole family. It owes us all something.” He tapped one heel against the cement. 

“And I fully intend on giving it hell.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this about a week ago!!! I hope it's good!! I will fight jo nesbo in the streets


End file.
